” “But is that really so?” said Ann Veronica. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. 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. You're alone, too, child. ” “Look here!” said Capes, “what on earth do you want? What do you think we can do? Don’t you know what men are, and what life is?—to come to me and talk to me like this!” “I know—something, anyhow.
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