“Who will you stop with?” “I shall go on my own. " "How so?" inquired Winifred. “Bohemianism is the least understood word ever coined. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. ” “The good God!” Anna murmured, herself shaken with fear. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. ’ A derisive snort greeted this passage. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them. When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores.
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