Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression. The room they were in was a sort of closet, with the door locked outside; but this was only a moment's obstacle to Jack, who with a chisel forced back the bolt. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. “Must be hard to find a decent violin teacher these days. Sheppard.
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