’ ‘Is she now? And what would you be wanting of her, may I ask?’ ‘Because she knows something that may make this fool understand that I am the mistress of—’ She broke off. One must be on guard. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. Burn your palette and your easel. That’s as far as we go.
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