" "Pity!" shrieked the widow. " There was a pause. ‘I am sure you will. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him.
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