“Before I heard much Wagnerian music I heard enthusiastic descriptions of it from a mistress I didn’t like at school. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. She fondled his penis which was stiff and straining against his pants. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. But I don’t suppose you can understand. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost.
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