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Updated: June 16, 2025
It was strong, striking, original. I saw it before my mind's eyes on the canvas already, with "On the Tamesi, Mexico" written on the margin. How could she ask me to lose it? But I could not break my word, as she chose to keep me to it. I said nothing, and, after a pause of keen disappointment, I walked slowly on again towards the boat.
A great vulture flapped heavily by and perched on a sand-hill not far from us, eyeing us somewhat askance, and some sea-gulls circled over us otherwise we were undisturbed. The following day we planned to come down the river Tamesi, which flows out at Tampico.
We stayed in the square buying to her heart's content till eleven, and then, after supper at a little table beneath the Plaza trees where the band played loudest, for Suzee loved music when it meant noise, we went back to the hotel and to bed. The next day I went by train to the place where we had embarked for our voyage down the Tamesi, fully equipped with my materials for a sketch and alone.
It was a perfect, cloudless day, and we reached our destination in the sweet fresh early hours of the morning. A walk through the tiny Mexican village brought us to the bank of the river where the Tamesi flowed by, heavily, grandly, in all the majesty of its flood.
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