‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the vacant chair. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived.
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