She straightened her back, determined not to feel intimidated despite the fact the only women there were the barmaids and dancers.“I’m looking for...the artist Edgar Degas. Do you know if he is here?”“I don’t, Madame, but you could ask him. He’s an artist too.”The man pointed in the direction of a dishevelled looking man sitting drinking by the fire. She noticed the cane beside him as she approached.“I apologise for interrupting, Monsieur, but I am told that you are an artist. Do you know where I. He had a nice trim body, and she decided that yoga was of more than casual interest to him. He lay down on his back with his arms at his sides, along the long axis of the room. His feet faced the door, with his head away from where Jane sat. That's the corpse pose, Jane recalled. He kept that one for several minutes. He stood up, removed his pants, folded them in half, and placed them on top of his T-shirt. Facing away from the door, Arthur folded himself at the waist, legs and torso straight,. More

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