“But you must forgive me, John. “These are for you. I don’t think they do matter. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation.
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