He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. 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. By this time, the procession had reached the west end of the wall of St. Want to walk home today? Lucy slipped the paper into her English textbook. Manning, her aunt and father, neighbors, customs, traditions, forces. He cannot. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. ”) Well, they might say that, but he knew very well that before long they would regret it.
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