..quot;

    At t moment Poussin te en in a corner. All at once ter once more became t; is it, my angel?quot; he asked her.

    quot;Kill me!quot; s;I must be a vile till, for I despise you.... I admire you, and I e you! I love you, and I feel t I e you even no;

    tes ; ion of a jeo be expert ters a profoundly astute glance t expressed to tempt for t of udio uous e and in silence, until from t;Good-by, my young friends!quot;

    t fareruck a co ters. Porbus, in anxiety,  again on to see Fren  after burning his canvases.

    Paris, February, 1832.