The Aesthetics of Hunger
London, 1895 The studio smelled of turpentine and linseed oil and the particular dampness that seemed to inhabit every building in Chelsea. Victoria Ashford stood before her latest canvas and stared at the face she had been trying to paint for three weeks without success. It was not a difficult face. Count Alexander Volkonsky was, by all accounts, a handsome man—tall and thin, with dark hair...
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