It isn’t illusions—for us. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. I want him immediately, so you can send Frith with my phaeton if you like. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now. Love is a great thing, and happiness a joy. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired.
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