I can be that man, the one I know you want. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. “Will you come in, Sir John. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. “It is such a very respectable boarding-house,” she said. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. The perspiration stood out upon his forehead. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. I think too much about myself.
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