‘You know, you never congratulate me on my ballads,’ Dandelion suddenly spoke up. ‘I’ve composed and sung so many of them in your company. But you’ve never said: “That was nice. I’d like you to play that again.” You’ve never said that.’ ‘You’re right. I haven’t. Do you want to know why?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Because I’ve never wanted to.’ ‘Would it be such a sacrifice?’ asked the bard, not giving up. ‘Such a hardship? To say: “Play that again, Dandelion. Play As Time Passes”.’ ‘Play it again, Dandelion. Play “As Time Passes”.’ ‘You said that quite without conviction.’ ‘So what? You’ll play it anyway.’
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