She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. “What a little brick!” he murmured. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. But this accusation, for want of sufficient evidence, met with the same fate as the first, and Jonathan came off victorious. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber.
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