He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers. "Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, nobody writes—I mean, on a par with what we've just heard. ” Anna glanced momentarily towards her sister, but Annabel neither spoke nor moved. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling.
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