"Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. 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. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight.
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