John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. In other respects, they were equally indecorous and offensive. He had seldom been more perturbed. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing.
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