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Updated: May 1, 2025
After much searching Cowperwood had found an architect in New York who suited him entirely one Raymond Pyne, rake, raconteur, man-about-town who was still first and foremost an artist, with an eye for the exceptional and the perfect. These two spent days and days together meditating on the details of this home museum.
My letter to Mr. Hall led to introductions to Leslie, Harding, Creswick, and several minor painters, all of whom found me attentive to the lessons they gave me on their own excellences and led me no farther, but it also brought me into contact with a painter of a higher and more serious order, J.B. Pyne, one of the few thinkers and impartial critics I found amongst the English painters.
Poor Sir Lucien Pyne, I am sure, was addicted to drugs." "Do you think" Irvin spoke in a very low voice "do you think he led her into the habit?" Margaret bit her lip, staring down at the red carpet. "I would hate to slander a man who can never defend himself," she replied finally. "But I have sometimes thought he did." Silence fell.
"I think that I shall go down to the gate," said Miss Pyne, looking at Martha for approval, and Martha nodded and they went together slowly down the broad front walk. There was a sound of horses and wheels on the roadside turf: Martha could not see at first; she stood back inside the gate behind the white lilac-bushes as the carriage came.
While these were busy arranging their quarters a soldier passed with several books in his hand, which he had just received from one of the ladies from the Institute. "Hallo, Jack!" cried Moses Pyne; "have the ladies been aboard?" "Of course they have. They've been all over the ship already distributin' books an' good-byes.
The hope of getting much technical instruction from competent masters in England was speedily dispelled. Lessons in water-color I could get at a guinea an hour, and to enter as a pupil with one of the better painters was impossible. Pyne received from his pupils £100 a month. I had calculated how far I could mate my fifty pounds go and put it at six months.
"Yes, yes. But the lady?" "A native, possibly Egyptian, apparently servant of Kazmah, came out a few minutes after Mr. Gray had gone for cab, and went away. Sir Lucien Pyne and lady are still in Kazmah's rooms." "What!" cried Irvin, pulling out his watch and glancing at the disk. "But it's after eight o'clock!" "Yes, sir. The place is all shut up, and other offices in block closed at six.
Here in a perpetual atmosphere of sunrise were to be racks for exotic birds, a trellis of vines, stone benches, a central pool of glistening water, and an echo of music. Pyne assured him that after his death this room would make an excellent chamber in which to exhibit porcelains, jades, ivories, and other small objects of value.
She snapped her fingers, glancing from Rita to Pyne. "Oh, really? Is that a promise?" asked Mollie eagerly. "No, no!" answered Mrs. Sin. "It is a threat!" Something in the tone of her voice as she uttered the last four words in mock dramatic fashion caused Mollie and Rita to stare at one another questioningly.
There was no pretty suggestion toward the pursuit of the fine art of housekeeping in Martha's limited acquaintance with newspapers that she did not adopt; there was no refined old custom of the Pyne housekeeping that she consented to let go.
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