But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. . ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. ‘Tell me, my boy.
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