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9. When I told them I was going to your house today, my dad told me to either ask for lessons or bring my violin to give to you permanently since I was not ever going to use it. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her. She was given a glimpse of his soul. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. Looking for something, or someone, probably. “I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved. ’ Oh, do they? No kitchen service? No feeding of pigs? It was evident that this woman knew nothing of nuns, if a certain young lady’s artless reminiscences were anything to go by. I was compelled to run away.
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