She took to listening through closed doors. "Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. His high brow was what caused all the ladies in town to covet him, it radiated intelligence but also something more primal. “I wouldn’t make this objection,” Mr. White calls them. The room seemed a vacuum. Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition.
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