He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. I kept them on myself till the sight of your empty chair and the chill loneliness of it all nearly sent me mad. When at first she had realized that he 206 had conducted a sexual affair with a local well-known Florentine courtesan she called him out, accusing him of exposing her to an array of diseases. “Didn’t you just get over an ear infection not two weeks ago? You’re asking for another one.
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