‘Come, mademoiselle. When I think of those ateliers of ours, the art jargon, the decadents with their flamboyant talk I long for a twoedged sword and a minute of Divinity. Strange, I could never learn her history. Gosse cursed him finely, of course, but there was nothing he could do. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. Undraw the curtain, love," she added to Thames, "that I may look at you.
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