" "Why, what'll you do?" demanded the turnkey. “Lucy!” He whispered into her ear beneath a dusty curtain cloud. "You're mistaken, Winny. Some of your sex, I mean. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. A failure! She must write herself down a failure! At her age, with her ambitions, with her artistic temperament and creative instincts, she was yet to be denied all coherent means of expression. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. " "I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. ” He said nothing for a space. ‘Assuredly it is locked up. I don’t know what has come over me.
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