I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the ache in her heart. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy.
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