" "Nonsense!" cried Wood; "while there's life there's hope. 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. Unless we can get some optimism into him, he'll probably start this all over again when he gets on his feet. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. ’ ‘Yes, that is what he said,’ agreed Melusine, pleased to find him of so ready an understanding.
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