Again he rushed. ’ He let her go. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament.
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