People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. He would know the truth then once and for all. Left alone with Edgeworth Bess, Jack burst into a loud laugh of exultation.
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