Anna suddenly leaned forward and looked around her. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. “Your success here is absolutely meteoric. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. Now he thought she was so foolish that she knew only one stroke. When I told them I was going to your house today, my dad told me to either ask for lessons or bring my violin to give to you permanently since I was not ever going to use it. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. They were in different key, they had a different timbre.
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