Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. He and her father shook hands manfully. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets.
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