’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. 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. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence. ‘En effet, it is for this that I was enquiring of this man if he has pen and paper. Now drop it. I saw it this morning in the Daily Journal—an advertisement, offering a reward—" "A reward!" echoed Jack. ‘Never fear, my love.
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