She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. But she was staring seaward and did not notice the offering. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights.
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