"Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. 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. "You'll never return. ” The idea struck him as novel. —BRENDON. The knight mechanically complied with his request. ” “She’ll meet somebody one of these days—walking about like that.
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