John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. We'll be upon the ban-dogs before they can shake their trotters!" And the alarm was sounded more loudly than ever. It wasn’t pretty. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. " "Take time to consider of it," replied Wood sulkily, "there's no hurry.
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