Your attitude to me—” He fell into a brown study. He could have easily forced it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. I declare I'm almost afraid to go to the door. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced.
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