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Wild here presently. But I want to know whether in such an event you would stand by me?” She held out her hand. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. So the talk went on. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A.
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