Even then she wouldn't care.

She says I can only do blood and bones.

I don't believe she has blood in her veins.

All the same I lover her; and I must go on loving her; and if I can humble her inordinate vanity I will.

I'll do a Melancolia that shall be something like a Melancolia--"the Melancolia that transcends all wit." I'll do it at once, con--bless her.' He discovered that the notion would not come to order, and that he could not free his mind for an hour from the thought of Maisie's departure.
He took very small interest in her rough studies for the Melancolia when she showed them next week.