"Children," said the aunt, first to awake, "be young fools as long as God will permit you. Too late she realised that Emile was not trying to escape. The thought of beauty became an obsession. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. Come along, master. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. 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.
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