She could feel her face turning beet red. She addressed Capes as though she spoke to him alone. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. "I give you all of my genius, and you say—'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog. " "Mr.
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