Wood," she cried, as the staff fell from his grasp. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. " There was a pause. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit. ’ ‘Compel me? You do not know me, monsieur.
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