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| | THE STORY OF GEORGE SAND |
 | | She still pursued her trade of journalism, calling herself a "newspaper mechanic," sitting all day in the office of the Figaro and writing whatever was demanded, while at night she would prowl in the streets haunting the cafes, continuing to dress like a man, drinking sour wine, and smoking cheap cigars. |
 | | She writes that she feels uneasy, and even frightfully remorseful, at seeing Sandeau "pine away." She knows, she avows, that she is killing him, that her caresses are a poison, and her love a consuming fire. |
 | | There was a touch of genuine sentiment about the affair with Jules Sandeau; but after that, one can only see in George Sand a half- libidinous grisette, such as her mother was before her, with a perfect willingness to experiment in every form of lawless love. |
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