” “How the hell did you learn to play like that?” “Lots of practice, John. I overlooked the mechanical imperfections of your work, the utter lack of finish, the crudeness of your drawing. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. ’ A grimace crossed her face. "I beg your pardon!… A bit rocky this morning…. “My brother’s room when he comes home. ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. He would never recognize me now.
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