Her head swam. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. I’m not that sort I quite agree. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States.
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