Stanley pointed to the letter with a pipe he had drawn from his jacket pocket. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. I did what I could to comfort her but she died in terrible pain. “I’ve been to hear you lots of times. 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. \"I'll meet you at your locker after school.
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