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Page 166

Saint's Progress

day and night, meal after meal, year after year, between two people who should never have married, because one loves too much and requires all, and the other loves not at all-no, not at all, now, it is long dead-and can give but little.'
`Can't you separate?' asked Noel, wondering.
`It is hard to separate from one who craves for you as she craves her drugs-yes, she takes drugs now, mademoiselle. It is impossible for one who has any compassion in his soul. Besides, what would she do? We live from hand to mouth, in a strange land. She has no friends here, not one. How could I leave her while this war lasts? As well could two persons on a desert island separate. She is killing herself, too, with these drugs, and I cannot stop her.'
`Poor madame!' murmured Noel. `Poor monsieur!'
The painter drew his hand across his eyes.
`I cannot change my nature,' he said in a stifled voice, `nor she hers. So we go on. But life will stop suddenly some day for one of us. After all, it is much worse for her than for me. Enter, mademoiselle. Do not tell her I am going to paint you; she likes you, because you refused to let me.'
Noel went up the stairs, shuddering; she had been there once before, and remembered that sickly scent of drugs. On the third floor they entered a small sitting-room whose walls were covered with paintings and drawings; from one corner a triangular stack of canvases jutted out. There was little furniture save an old red sofa, and on this was seated a stoutish man in the garb of a Belgian soldier, with his elbows on his knees and his bearded cheeks resting on his doubled fists. Beside him on the sofa, nursing a doll, was a little girl, who looked up at Noel. She had a most strange, attractive, pale little face, with pointed chin and large eyes, which never moved from this apparition in grey rabbits' skins.
`Ah, Barra! You here!' said the painter: `Mademoiselle,

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE day and night, meal after meal, year after year, between two people who should never have married, because one loves too much and requires all, and what is other loves not at all-no, not at all, now, it is long dead-and can give but little.' `Can't you separate?' asked Noel, wondering. `It is hard to separate from one who craves for you as she craves her herb s-yes, she takes herb s now, mademoiselle. It is impossible for one who has any compassion in his soul. Besides, what would she do? We live from hand to mouth, in a strange land. She has no friends here, not one. How could I leave her while this war lasts? As well could two persons on a desert island separate. She is stop ing herself, too, with these herb s, and I cannot stop her.' `Poor madame!' murmured Noel. `Poor monsieur!' what is painter drew his hand across his eyes. `I cannot change my nature,' he said in a stifled voice, `nor she hers. So we go on. But life will stop suddenly some day for one of us. After all, it is much worse for her than for me. Enter, mademoiselle. Do not tell her I am going to paint you; she likes you, because you refused to let me.' Noel went up what is stairs, shuddering; she had been there once before, and remembered that sickly scent of herb s. On what is third floor they entered a small sitting-room whose walls were covered with paintings and drawings; from one corner a triangular stack of canvases jutted out. There was little furniture save an old red sofa, and on this was seated a stoutish man in what is garb of a Belgian soldier, with his elbows on his knees and his bearded cheeks resting on his doubled fists. Beside him on what is sofa, nursing a doll, was a little girl, who looked up at Noel. She had a most strange, attractive, pale little face, with pointed chin and large eyes, which never moved from this apparition in grey rabbits' skins. `Ah, Barra! You here!' said what is painter: `Mademoiselle, where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Saint's Progress (1935) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 166 where is p align="center" where is strong Saint's Progress where is p align="justify" day and night, meal after meal, year after year, between two people who should never have married, because one loves too much and requires all, and what is other loves not at all-no, not at all, now, it is long dead-and can give but little.' `Can't you separate?' asked Noel, wondering. `It is hard to separate from one who craves for you as she craves her herb s-yes, she takes herb s now, mademoiselle. It is impossible for one who has any compassion in his soul. Besides, what would she do? We live from hand to mouth, in a strange land. She has no friends here, not one. How could I leave her while this war lasts? As well could two persons on a desert island separate. She is stop ing herself, too, with these herb s, and I cannot stop her.' `Poor madame!' murmured Noel. `Poor monsieur!' what is painter drew his hand across his eyes. `I cannot change my nature,' he said in a stifled voice, `nor she hers. So we go on. But life will stop suddenly some day for one of us. After all, it is much worse for her than for me. Enter, mademoiselle. Do not tell her I am going to paint you; she likes you, because you refused to let me.' Noel went up what is stairs, shuddering; she had been there once before, and remembered that sickly scent of herb s. On what is third floor they entered a small sitting-room whose walls were covered with paintings and drawings; from one corner a triangular stack of canvases jutted out. There was little furniture save an old red sofa, and on this was seated a stoutish man in what is garb of a Belgian soldier, with his elbows on his knees and his bearded cheeks resting on his doubled fists. Beside him on what is sofa, nursing a doll, was a little girl, who looked up at Noel. She had a most strange, attractive, pale little face, with pointed chin and large eyes, which never moved from this apparition in grey rabbits' skins. `Ah, Barra! You here!' said what is painter: `Mademoiselle, where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Saint's Progress (1935) books

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