"I've lost my wager. Are you sure you're not misinformed, Sir?" "I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the jailer. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. She drank it obediently. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form.
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