Burn your palette and your easel. . I wonder if you will mind very much when I tell you they were suggested by you. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. ‘Well, only look what’s come of it. . Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. Eventually this comradeship (slightly resented by Rollo) reached a point where he could call out from the study: "Hey, Ruth!—come and tell me what you think of this. I’ve no name for it yet. .
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