"Think not to pursue this matter, Guy, on your life. I will not permit
it; not now, at least, if I have to strike for the youth myself."
Thus spoke the landlord, as he advanced in the same direction. Both were
deeply roused, and, though not reckless alike, Munro was a man quite as
decisive in character as his companion was ferocious and vindictive.
What might have been the result of their present position, had it not
undergone a new interruption, might not well be foreseen. The sash of
one of the apartments of the building devoted to the family was suddenly
thrown up, and a soft and plaintive voice, accompanying the wandering
and broken strains of a guitar, rose sweetly into song upon the ear.
"'Tis Lucy--the poor girl! Stay, Guy, and hear her music. She does not
often sing now-a-days. She is quite melancholy, and it's a long time
since I've heard her guitar. She sings and plays sweetly; her poor
father had her taught everything before he failed, for he was very proud
of her, as well he might be.
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