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Updated: June 27, 2025
Lonesome and blue, Nothin' to do, I roams around a-feelin' like I had the 'flu..." From the region of the saxophones a gorgeous baritone had soared forth. Glancing around she saw the glistening black face of a faultlessly attired American negro.
The voluptuous chords of the wedding march done in blasphemous syncopation issued in a delirious blend from the trombones and saxophones and the march began. "Aren't you glad, camel?" demanded Betty sweetly as they stepped off. "Aren't you glad we're going to be married and you're going to belong to the nice snake-charmer ever afterward?" The camel's front legs pranced, expressing excessive joy.
The careless violins and saxophones, the shrill rasping complaint of a child near by, the voice of the violet-hatted girl at the next table, all moved slowly out, receded, and fell away like shadowy reflections on the shining floor and they two, it seemed to him, were alone and infinitely remote, quiet.
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