abstract horse painting

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¡¡¡¡'Agnes!' I said. 'I'mafraidyou'renorwell.' ¡¡¡¡'Yes, yes. Do not mind me, Trotwood,' she returned. 'Listen! Are you going away soon?' ¡¡¡¡'Amigoarawaysoo?' I repeated. ¡¡¡¡'Yes.' ¡¡¡¡I had a stupid intention of replying that I was going to wait, to hand her downstairs. I suppose I expressed it, somehow; for after she had looked at me attentively for a little while, she appeared to understand, and replied in a low tone: ¡¡¡¡'I know you will do as I ask you, if I tell you I am very earnest in it. Go away now, Trotwood, for my sake, and ask your friends to take you home.' ¡¡¡¡She had so far improved me, for the time, that though I was angry with her, I felt ashamed, and with a short 'Goori!' (which I intended for 'Good night!') got up and went away. They followed,
oil paintingand I stepped at once out of the box-door into my bedroom, where only Steerforth was with me, helping me to undress, and where I was by turns telling him that Agnes was my sister, and adjuring him to bring the corkscrew, that I might open another bottle of wine. ¡¡¡¡How somebody, lying in my bed, lay saying and doing all this over again, at cross purposes, in a feverish dream all night - the bed a rocking sea that was never still! How, as that somebody slowly settled down into myself, did I begin to parch, and feel as if my outer covering of skin were a hard board; my tongue the bottom of an empty kettle, furred with long service, and burning up over a slow fire; the palms of my hands, hot plates of metal which no ice could cool!