"'Sdeath!" cried Hogarth, aside to the poet. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps. Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. . ‘I have told you I will take Jacques. . To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. You’d better not have all the money on you; you had better open a small account in the postoffice and draw it out a fiver at a time.
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