“Lucy, where is your callous? All violinists have calluses on their necks and hands from playing. ” “You have it,” he declared confidently. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. Where the devil have you hidden all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you. You'll find me at supper. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself.
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