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Petrokoff cleared his throat and his chest swelled a little under his coat. "Bradjaga, I have taught the violin for twenty-five years there is no other way." The gypsey sighed. "My own way is so much simpler," he said, "Look!"
Petersburg, but the house was sold out. Bosh I tell you! I wouldn't cross the street to hear a virtuoso like that!" The gypsey gave a queer sound like a chuckle: "He does not play as you do, of course, Bárin!" "I!" cried Petrokoff. He twirled his mustache fiercely. "The Russians are like children, they run after every new plaything. The Pole is a new plaything, a toy bah!
"Dick," said Ned, "Dad thinks we need a little vacation before going to work, and he offers to take us on a cruise in the Gypsey to the Bahamas and to Cuba, or to charter a light-draft boat that could go through the Bay of Florida and let us finish our cruise in the crocodile country, beginning where we turned back when the fresh water gave out. Maybe he will let Molly go."
We earn our living on the road, my comrade and I eh, Bradjaga?" With that, he clapped Kaya on the shoulder, showing his white teeth and laughing: "No baggage, Bárin, no no, only this and that!" He pointed to the knapsack swung from his shoulder and the violin in his hand. "What does this ragamuffin do?" demanded the official, looking narrowly at Kaya, "He is fair for a gypsey."
The gypsey leaned over the dash-board, her face white, her eyes dark with rage, her cap on the back of her yellow curls; and the whip seemed to leap between her fingers like something alive. "Velasco!" she screamed, "Get up! Come ah, come, while I beat them, the fiends!" The cry seemed to pierce the benumbed brain of her companion, as the lash the skin.
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