Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. They hissed me!” “Beasts!” he muttered. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. I fought ten lions at once. ‘It is nothing. ‘He was very kind to me.
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