” “Tut!” he said, fuming, and put out his hand to the papers in the pink tape. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. \"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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