He waved to her. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. “Why should one pretend? “Think of all the beauty in the world that is covered up and overlaid. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. "Man, man! You're coming to life. " On a shelf was placed a row of paint-jars; the contents of which had been daubed in rainbow streaks upon the adjacent closet and window sill.
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