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Updated: June 12, 2025
I wish I wish to heaven you'd fall in love!" "I'm not likely to. I'm in love with my art. It gives you a better return than love for any man." "No," answered Gillian quietly. "No. You're wrong. Tony died when we'd only been married a year. But that year was worth the whole rest of life put together. And I've got Coppertop." Magda leaned forward suddenly and kissed her.
But she was not in the least prepared for the man as he appeared when Virginie ushered him into the dressing-room and retired, discreetly closing the door behind her. Magda, her hand outstretched to greet him, paused in sheer dismay, her arm falling slowly to her side. She had never seen so great a change in any man.
Magda nodded. Her eyes were wistful. "Yes, go to her. I think mothers must understand as other people can't ever understand. She will be glad to have you with her, Antoine." He was silent for a moment, his eyes dwelling on her face as though he sought to learn each line of it, so that when she would be no more beside him he might carry the memory of it in his heart for ever.
The audience went half-crazy with excitement, applauding deliriously, while the front of the stage speedily became converted into a veritable bank of flowers, from amidst which Magda bowed and smiled her thanks. She enjoyed every moment of it, every handclap. She was radiantly happy, and this spontaneous sharing in her happiness by the big public which idolised her served but to intensify it.
She stood quite still, breathing rather quickly from her recent exertions and supported by the close clasp of his hands on hers. Her lips were a little parted, her slight breast rose and fell unevenly, and a faint rose-colour glowed beneath the ivory pallor of her skin. Suddenly Davilof's grip tightened. "You beautiful thing!" he exclaimed huskily. "Magda "
To Magda, the juxtaposition of the two paragraphs was almost unendurable. That this supreme success should be marred and overshadowed by a possible tragedy! She flung the newspaper to the ground. "I think I think the world's going mad!" she exclaimed in a choked voice. Gillian looked across at her.
Hasn't it a nice sound Storran of Stockleigh?" "And did you engage the rooms on those grounds, may I ask? Because the proprietor's name 'had a nice sound'?" Magda regarded her seriously. "Do you know, I really believe that had a lot to do with it," she acknowledged. Gillian went off into a little gale of laughter. "How like you!" she exclaimed.
We may also believe that the artistic activity of women is in some measure able to offer a counterpoise to the otherwise less pleasant results of sexual abandonment, preventing the coarsening and destruction of the emotional life; in his Magda Sudermann has described a type of woman who, from the standpoint of strict morality, is open to condemnation, but in her art finds a foothold, the strength of which even ill-will must unwillingly recognize."
<b>KROENER, MAGDA.</b> The pictures of flowers which this artist paints prove her to be a devoted lover of nature. She exhibited at Düsseldorf, in 1893, a captivating study of red poppies and another of flowering vetch, which were bought by the German Emperor.
"I'm not not the Magda he knew any longer." "That's an absurd exaggeration. You're not looking very well, that's all," retorted Gillian with her usual practical common sense. "You can't suppose that would make any difference to Michael! It didn't make any to me. I'm only too glad to have you back at any price!"
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