At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Sepulchre's. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. But her tears had been for Leonardo’s expulsion, and the loss of his companionship. She went from period to period exactly as she would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally balanced. We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are.
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