" "I must trouble you to hold the child, then, for a minute, while I run up to the garret, where I've hidden it for safety," said Mrs. “Must be hard to find a decent violin teacher these days. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery.
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