” “DUSTING!” said Miss Miniver, in a sepulchral voice. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. ” “Yeah, I think she hates you, hon. ’ The girl bit her lip and backed a little, while her husband shifted to stand at her side. John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. But that title he would not endure.
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