Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. You denied it at the time—but unfortunately I have proof. Well, after a time there came a fever in my blood. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe. ‘I know you, Gerald. .
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