CHAPTER IV. If they had any idea the concerts he had seen, they would have known the quality of her playing. Wood. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. We men are like children.
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