Wood," replied Jack, calmly. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. "Here we part,—perhaps for ever. "I am a Yale man," said Ah Cum.
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