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. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. It was the moment for smiles. “Better,” said Ann Veronica, with an unreal alacrity. You might get faint, but you can fight it. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. "We're too wide awake for that.
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