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Updated: May 17, 2025
While hastily demolishing his breakfast, Maurice visualised his picture in every detail: and with the arrival of his model all thought of Quita and her woes was crowded out of his mind. Yet the man was not heartless, by any means.
Visualised in "the Spider" Ravenslee saw a tall, slender youth, very wide in the shoulder and prodigiously long of arm and leg, and who looked at him keen-eyed from beneath a wide cap brim, while his square jaws worked with untiring industry upon a wad of chewing gum. "Good evening!" said Ravenslee and held out his hand.
He had visualised himself and Miriam first as at breakfast on a clear bright winter morning amidst a tremendous smell of bacon, and then as having muffins for tea. He had also thought of sitting on the beach on Sunday afternoons and of going for a walk in the country behind the town and picking marguerites and poppies.
Thus the children mentioned in the late Mr. Spurgeon's Life, who went down an underground passage and saw a vision of their dead mother, who stopped them from falling into a well, felt as other children would feel, that they must think of the one person who is always ready to preserve her little children from terror and pain; and thinking of her, they visualised her.
But, try as he would, the story would not run; he fixed his mind upon the scene in vain; he concentrated hard, visualised the place and characters as his habit was, reconstructed the incidents and conversation exactly as though he had seen them happen and remembered them but the imagination that should have given them life failed to operate. It became a mere effort of invention.
His random glance was arrested by a thin, wavering hand he knew well, scrawled on an envelope that bore the picture and name of a New York hotel. Had he been a student of chirography, he might have read the secret of the enigma that tormented him in those pale, uncertain pen-strokes, so unlike the firm, compact characters by which Miss Wycliffe visualised her will.
They had somehow stuck in his head. He would tell her that. He dramatised the interview in his mind. It would serve Christian right; it would be a rather jolly instance of retributive justice only he wished that the Christian whom he visualised was not always that shadowed, ethereal Christian whom he had painted, with, as Rossetti said, the wonder not yet quite gone from that still look of hers.
Their mode of working frequently implies that the artist is working to a pattern, mentally fixed and clearly visualised, rather than working out any new design. For he will work first on one part of the surface, then on another, producing disconnected fragments of the pattern, and uniting them later.
He visualised him in dissipation and depravity of every kind and degree; he saw him sinking lower and lower, a traitor to his family name; as if in a dream that appeases the sense of obscene horror, he saw him in league with the abandoned and proscribed, associating with thieves, street bandits, high-flying swindlers, counterfeiters, anarchists, prostitutes, and literati.
He had seen no sign of it, had received no token of it. But, after all, how should he have seen a sign of anything in one whom he had never consciously visualised? That she had never thrust herself on his notice might mean merely that she had been well brought-up. What likelier than that the daughter of Mrs. Batch, that worthy soul, had been well brought up?
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