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He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. 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. " "You're strangely superstitious, Sir Rowland," said Jonathan, halting, and looking steadfastly at him.
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