Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. The first of these, whom he addressed as Mr. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. Michelle had begged her to do it. "I've done all I can to the portrait here. “I’m fine,” she said softly. People were passing in the street below. No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently.
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