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Updated: May 31, 2025
He may know what a man in love is; Boaz there is in love. 'I wish we could see the woman's face, said Sleaford. 'A woman, you know, without a face 'Come and see the predella of "Faith and Love," said Wilderspin, and he moved towards an easel where rested the predella, a long narrow picture without a frame.
'But she's safe, I kept murmuring, in answer to that rising dread: 'Wilderspin said she was safe. During that drive to Belgrave Square, he whose bearing towards my mother was that of the anxious, loving son was not I, the only living child of her womb, but poor, simple, empty-headed Sleaford.
'I heard her voice in the London streets, and she was seen selling baskets at the theatre door. Where shall I find the house? 'It is of no use for you to go there, he said. 'Nothing shall prevent my going at once. A feverish yearning had come upon me to see the body. 'If you will go, said Wilderspin, 'it is No. 2 Primrose Court, Great Queen Street, Holborn.
'Wilderspin' was Smetham with a variation: certain characteristics of another painter of genius were introduced, I believe, into the portrait of him in Aylwin; and the story of 'Wilderspin's' early life was not that of Smetham.
In painting this subject Wilderspin had, without knowing it, worked with too strong a reminiscence of my mother's portrait, unconscious that he was but giving expression to the awful irony of Heaven. I turned round. Wilderspin was supporting with difficulty my mother's dead weight. 'Dear me! said Wilderspin, 'I had no idea that Christabel's terror was so strongly rendered, no idea!
Wilderspin evidently thought that I had been overcome by the marvellous power of his description, and went on as though there had been no interruption. 'And you got from my father's book, The Veiled Queen, all this' I was going to add 'jumble of classic story and mediæval mysticism, but I stopped short in time.
Wilderspin was on the point of engaging me, when the other man, without troubling to look at me again, said: 'He's no more a Romany than I am. 'Ain't a Romany? said Sinfi. 'Who says my brother ain't a Romany? Where did you ever see a Gorgio with a skin like that? she said, triumphantly pulling up my sleeve and exposing one of my wrists.
The Infant School of Wilderspin, already briefly described, was almost a dead thing, with its galleries and its mechanical prodigies, its object-lessons and its theology; now it was breathed upon by the spirit of the man who said: "Play is the highest phase of child development, of human development at this period: for it is the spontaneous representation of the inner, from inner necessity and impulse."
These words were followed by a sequence of mystical sonnets about "the Omnipotence of Love," which showed, beyond doubt, that if my father was not a scientific thinker, he was, at least, a very original poet. And this made me perplexed as to what could have drawn Wilderspin, who scorned the art of poetry, into the meshes of The Veiled Queen.
'I told the model I should want her no more, said Wilderspin, 'and for two days and nights I sat in the studio in a dream, and could get nothing to pass my lips but bread and water. Then it was that Mary Wilderspin, my mother, remembered me, blessed me sent me a spiritual body
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