John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. I don’t suppose you could tell me even the derivation of suffrage if I asked you. It was red and chapped. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long.
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