“You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned. “I am afraid that you are making a mistake. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected.
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