“There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. “I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. I am sure. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired.
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