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I am going now to get a bottle of port and some eggs, as Dadda luminously suggested; and when I am tired, eat that; when not, go to the Concordia Caffè with the Poetees, close by, which is very jolly, artists go there, and nice people; and of course I will sit at Mrs. Porter's table. Then I only pay 7¢ a day for my room; and when I stay away over Sundays or out to dinner, (3 times a week!) I won't have to pay for food here. (My breakfasts are brought to me early in bed.) I think this will work out well; and I won't hurry so, as I do when I eat all alone.

My studio is such a huge beautiful place, with a hanging brass lamp, 


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Raffaella gave me; and tall candles, and little candles in sconces on the wall.

The tortoise is not talkative and hates a noise; he only walks about when men pose, or Nora who are silent; and then he lumbers across for miles to the red-hot stove and sticks his neck away out; and stays so for hours, enjoying the heat. He picks his way very carefully over the wet asphalt and lumps of clay; and I wonder he is never stept on! The girl models sing all the time; and I've learned a lot of new Roman songs. One little girl is eleven, and poses very well, Angelina, every now and then. The pigeons kiss on the window sill; but the cock is so noisy