She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. . Although she did not understand why he persisted in this pursuit of her affairs. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. Shari draped herself lazily upon her unmade bed. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping.
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