For if the likeness between the sisters was remarkable, the likeness between this girl and the poster which he had come from studying was more remarkable still. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. He sent me home. White was scattered across the long stretches of pine trees and corn fields.
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