“Shhh. When I think of those ateliers of ours, the art jargon, the decadents with their flamboyant talk I long for a twoedged sword and a minute of Divinity. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. “How is that carmine working?” he asked, with a forced interest. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. The girl nodded sagely.
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