A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. He opened his eyes, protestingly, and beheld the realization of his dream. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin.
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