Day after day she pounded him with curses, saying that her mother looked down on him from Heaven and sent a curse, to which he laughed. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. "Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, nobody writes—I mean, on a par with what we've just heard. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. In twenty minutes we meet in the hall, remember.
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