F. Wood," replied Jack, calmly. “It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. This was the worst summer that I ever had in my life, Europe and all, and I can’t tell you how many times I drove by that Violin Camp hoping to catch a look at you, praying that there wasn’t some horny violin guy waiting to ask you out. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. She shook her head.
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