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Mr. Zalhambra’s gaze fell full on the girl and her color heightened under his ardent look. The pianist sat easily at the piano and began the Moskowski selection that had failed to create the expected furore in the afternoon. A cadenza that shivered down the spine like spray from a glacial torrent wakened the room. Then he plunged into the first theme. His small audience listened spell-bound. Betty’s eyes followed the fingers that leaped over the ivory keys like white flame. A subtle current began to play in the room. Steadily it grew in power. Magnetism to the nth degree was being generated. A tremendous chord brought the music to a close and the pianist to his feet. Something in Nell’s glance inspired him. He whirled about the room whistling and imitating some of the cadenzas and other passages from the selection just played. He gesticulated wildly with his hands, the passion for dramatic music oozing from his pores. “Oh, please, Mrs. Lancaster,” Billy coaxed. “The circus won’t be any circus at all without Buzz. We’re to have him for a side show after the performance. We’ve advertised him,” Billy pleaded well..

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Her disappointment over Moses’ parsimony led her now to see the urgent necessity of ideas, vital ideas, in fact, ideas that could cause silver to flow to her empty coffers, or in other words her missionary box. “Stir yerself Moses or I’ll hev the zoo ready afore yer tickets are writ.” The inexorable portrait on the wall seemed to gaze down on the recalcitrant youth with disapproval. “Well now Howard Eliot I carnt see nothin’ in that to larf at. It is grand readin’. Do read another,” said Mrs. Wopp..