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Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. A severe pang shot through Jack's heart, and he would have given worlds if he possessed them to have seen his friend once more. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her.
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