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Richard A. Canfield, who sat for the portrait now called "His Reverence," though Canfield was something quite unclerical, recites: "After I had my first sitting on New Year's Day, 1903, I saw Whistler every day until the day I sailed for New York, which was on May 16th. He was not able to work, however, on all those days.
"He was sitting there, eating a lunch, and when we appeared and asked him who he was and where he came from, he seemed frightened and could make no satisfactory answer." "I wasn't frightened, any such thing!" said Tom, his eyes flashing. "I am not frightened even now, sir.
The renewed attacks upon the dignity of the throne which had been made during the sitting; the spirit of an Assembly worse than the former; the monarch put upon a level with the President, without any deference to the throne, all this proclaimed but too loudly that the sovereignty itself was aimed at. The Queen no longer saw any ground for hope from the Provinces.
She swept her gown on one side, disclosing a vacant place on the settee where she had been sitting. For a second her eyes said more to him than her courteous but half-careless words of invitation. Mannering made no movement forward. "I am sorry," he said, "but it is impossible for me to stay!"
I was sitting idly in the saddle now with the rein over my wrist. Jourdan's message from my brother had given enough to think of.
You see, this evening, when Dan was out, I was sitting talkin' with Mr. Gabriel, and he was wondering how I came to be dropped down here, so I told him all about it. And he was so interested that I went and showed him the things I had on when Dan found me, you know they've been kept real nice.
I became aware of her as one of a number of interesting attractive figures that moved about in my world, that glanced back at my eyes, that flitted by with a kind of averted watchfulness. I would meet her coming through the Art Museum, which was my short cut to the Brompton Road, or see her sitting, reading as I thought, in one of the bays of the Education Library.
"What an excellent young man! There is no other reason for his coming to your house, Mary?" Then the sluice-gates were opened and the whole story was told. Sitting there late into the night Mary told it all as well as she knew how, all of it except in regard to any spark of love which might have fallen upon her in respect of Reginald Morton.
Some of them recollected afterward to have noticed her sitting on the piazza at sunset, looking at the mountains with an expression of great delight; but no one spoke with her, and no one missed her the next morning, when she did not come to breakfast.
'Well the Government is not here it is in Paris, and the troops have not yet returned from the war; but there is a TEMPORARY Commission sitting, and you had better go and see what IT can do for you. 'All right! he said. But first he asked where the President lived, and was told that his house was in Naberezhnaia Street.
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