“I want you to kiss me,” she said. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. ‘Comment? What do you wish?’ ‘What the devil do you think you’re up to now, I’d like to know?’ Her eyes flashed. In fact, I order you to do so. The true creative mind is always returning to battle; defeats are only temporary setbacks. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory.
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