Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. But the offences I have committed are venial in comparison with what I should commit were I to wed your father. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself. " "I am not, by Heaven," returned the knight, solemnly. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting.
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