He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. Perhaps marriage hurt. "I believe he's gone," he said, returning to Jonathan. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence. He embraced her like her father once had. He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. And, if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was continually getting him into scrapes, he might have been accounted a respectable member of society. ” “As you will, dear lover. ’ A faint smile crossed Gerald’s lips. " "To be sure you are," replied Jonathan, laughing.
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