She stuffed her violin in its case and rushed into the hallway towards John, who stood outside of 118 with his arms crossed. ’ Miss Froxfield regarded him in some interest. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life.
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