“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. . You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. “I saw you go into that place, and I have been waiting for you ever since. So these two young philosophers got along very well that day; and the succeeding days. " "Perhaps that was it. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. Her shoulders began to ache. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. The truth was impossible, indecent.
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