“Come,” he said, “this is capital, capital. You lie about your past all the time and you know it. Ill-drawn, without method or sense of proportion, you have put wonderful things on to canvas, have drawn them out of yourself, notwithstanding your mechanical inefficiency. It was no wonder, there was no money to buy food for the house. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 31-07-2024 14:47:19
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