Wasted

“And you yourself,” said Charlie bitterly, “you go on the errand of a rich dilettante from one artist to another. But you have never, upon your own, painted a picture, or bought one. When, in time, you quit this world of ours, you might as well not have lived.” Æneas nodded his head. “What do you nod your head at?” asked Charlie. “At what  you are saying,” said Æneas, “I might as well not have lived.”

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