” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair. The calvacade was now put slowly in motion. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. Taking the wind was her business in life. It lay undisturbed in the remotest corner of the recess. If the boy did not love the girl, why the devil had he dragged her into this marriage? Spurlock was a bit shaky bodily, but his brain was functioning clearly; and, it might be added, swiftly—as the brain always acts when confronted by a perplexing riddle. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. He was almost frightening in silhouette, his hair uncontrollable under the best of circumstances, but that changed when you saw his face.
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