She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone. She had even confided to him how lonely it was in the island. ” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. ” “And yet,” he murmured, “one of the greatest of our writers has declared that the true spirit of Bohemianism is denied to your sex. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone.
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