Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. In a moment they were in the street outside. ” “My wife was astounded—wounded beyond measure. ” “Alive,” Annabel moaned, her eyes large with terror. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber.
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