The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. My mother shall never degrade herself by a connection with you. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table.
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