It was a dead calm. E. ” “Coarse?” said Capes, “We’re not coarse. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. Later. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. Conscious of Mrs.
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