CHAPTER III. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. It begins with that queer piccolo solo. People ran out of their shops to join the pursuit; and, by the time Wild had got into Field-lane, he had a troop of fifty persons at his heels —all eager to assist in the capture.
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