He kissed her again. I cannot go on. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. The fever came. Anna crossed the street, and letting herself in at No. 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. Hastily ascending these steps, Jack found the door, as he anticipated, locked.
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