The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully.
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