Istra suddenly called, "O Mouse, wait just a moment."
She darted like a swallow. She threw her arm about his shoulder
and kissed his cheek. Instantly she was running up-stairs
again, and had disappeared into the studio.
Mr. William Wrenn was walking rapidly up Riverside Drive,
thinking about his letters to the Southern merchants.
While he was leaving the studio building he had perfectly seen
himself as one who was about to go through a tumultuous agony,
after which he would be free of all the desire for Istra and
ready to serve Nelly sincerely and humbly.
But he found that the agony was all over. Even to save his
dignity as one who was being dramatic, he couldn't keep his
thoughts on Istra.
Every time he thought of Nelly his heart was warm and he
chuckled softly. Several times out of nothing came pictures of
the supercilious persons whom he had heard solving the problems
of the world at the studio on Washington Square, and he
muttered: "Oh, hope they choke. Istra's all right, though; she
learnt me an awful lot.
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