What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. “What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush.
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