“It is possible,” Courtlaw said, “that you too were deceived. It’s 180 endearing. 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. . . I'm almost sorry your suspicions are unfounded, if your father in any way resembled you, my youngster. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. “You’re mad, Sebastianus.
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