And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. He threw the doctor out of the Palazzo on his rear, sending him to the insane plague-infested streets. 59 He was not present during the night the next morning, or the next, or the next. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. I suppose I believe in God. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. ” “Cooped up!” he cried. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx.
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