Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. "I can't," answered Blueskin. . He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. You can’t go. Burn your palette and your easel.
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