From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. "I knew his poor mother, and for her sake I'll not see this done," cried John Dump. "Can't you take me with you?" urged the voice; "I'll make it well worth your while. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet.
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