They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. ‘Talk to me another time. Aware of his father's inflexibility of purpose, he set his wits to work to defeat the design.
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