How can I tell you all I feel? I love you beyond measure. But this was a vicomte’s sister. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. "A doctor? What he needs is a good jolt of aromatic spirits of ammonia.
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