‘Don’t concern yourself,’ Gerald said calmly. Too bad he’s not interested in any girl who’s not a musician. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. "To be plain, then," said Winifred, "he has asked me whether I have any objection to you as a mother. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. They both listened intently. “Why?” he asked, suavely. The latch came with a weak click. There was more shouting. That I should be challenged by you of all people. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend.
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