She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. hopelessly, and it made me desperate. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. "Oh!—to see you thus!" cried Thames, in an agony of affliction. But about the unknown Englishman she was not so satisfied.
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