Burn your palette and your easel. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. I believed I was strong enough to go on in silence; but I'm human like everybody else. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. " "Dere's de other door!" cried Mendez, in alarm. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world.
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