“Actually, I am, it is terribly stupid. You go home and wait a century, Vee, and then try again. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. I’ve got no feminine class feeling. 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.
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