" CHAPTER XIX. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. “If only because of the way one hurts others if one kicks loose and free, one has to submit. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively.
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