"You must not remain here," he said. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. \"Just fine, John. You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town.
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