He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. You give her a daub here and there where the rust shows. But I'd a mind to try whether you really loved him as much as you pretended. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. I believe that the common report was that you and your sister had come to Paris to study painting.
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