'Go on, Winnie, pray go on,' I said.
'You _will_ make me talk about myself,' said Winifred, 'when I so
much want to hear all about you. This is what I call the
self-indulgence of love. Well, then, the gentleman and I mounted some
steps and then we entered a tapestried room. The windows--they were
quaint and old-fashioned casements--were open, and the sunlight was
pouring through them. I then saw at once that I was not anywhere near
Raxton. Besides, there was no sea-smell mixed with the perfumes of
the flowers and the songs of the birds. That I was not near Raxton,
very much amazed me, you may be sure. And then the room was so new to
me and so strange. I had never been in an artist's studio, but Sinfi
had talked to me of such places, and there were many signs that I was
in a studio now.'
'A studio! And not in London! Describe it, Winnie,' I said.
Although she had told me that the house was in the country, my mind
flew at once to Wilderspin's studio. 'You say that the gentleman was
not young, but that he had an expression of sorrow in his eyes.
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