Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin.
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