“You must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. Ice had begun to form in the shallows. ‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely. Terence, meanwhile, who had followed him, did not remain silent, but recapitulated his story, for the benefit of Mrs. I can't invent; the thing won't come. One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. You know, I’ve done no work at all this afternoon.
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