self like a high priest."
She found it strange because the Andre depicted in those articles was unfamiliar to her. When he was at their house, he was always like a gentle and affable older brother, occasionally cracking witty jokes.
Perhaps this little painter had a side to him that she had yet to discover.
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Edith brought to her good friend Charlene the half-month income from the Lady Liberty Gazette that Andre handed to her, asking her to buy a thicker blanket with it.
"This is too much, Edith," Charlene said, looking a little overwhelmed. "I really don''t need anything too fancy. Compared to blankets and food, I might prefer some materials for experiments. It''s been so long since I''ve done any chemical experiments."
She hurriedly added, "Oh, I didn''t mean to place you in a difficult position! It was just a throwaway remark. How could I not know how extravagant it is to get those things in such difficult times? I''m sorry, Edith."
Raphael, holding his violin, suggested that the two girls sing a song for relax, to his accompaniment.
The lively melody swirled and floated in the cabin, as the maidens'' voices intertwined and resonated, creating a symphony that was enough to make one''s heart sway.
Edith''s singing voice was like an alouette, clear and soaring, vibrant and vivid, filling the soul with joy and delight.
Charlene, on the other hand, was a nightingale. Her voice sounded ethereal and bewitching, yet evoking a sense of melancholy that touched the heartstrings.
The melody of the violin ended with a warble note.
Charlene held her hand over her bosom and sighed, "What a dulcet time! It reminds me of all the joy we''ve shared together back then!"
"You have such a golden alto voice, Charlene!" Edith genuinely complimented her. "By the way, could you recite this poem for us? It''s a new work by Andre...Citizen Quenet, dedicated to our Lady Liberty Gazette."
"The Ode to Lady Liberty?" Charlene took the tabloid, reading out the title of the poem.
Raphael turned his gaze to them, looking somewhat restless. His music continued to play, but seeming to have taken on a mournful melody.
Clearing her throat, Charlene began her elocnte:
"Liberty, oh liberty,
In my most ardent dreams, thy beauty I see;
This heart within my breast doth leap and sing,
For thee, the sprite of hope and sprin