"Your answer!" cried Sheppard. “Some afternoon. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. Brown engaged in the usual browbeating and complaining he reserved for sections who came in late and soloists who left tempo behind like the leftovers of a Sunday picnic. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other.
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