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Updated: June 23, 2025
He was seeking for an intelligent distinction between Sister Nora and Gwen, in reply to the question "Which?", when the dazzling appearance of the latter answered it for him. "I thought I might come up without waiting to ask," said the vision which is what she seemed, for a moment, to Sapps Court. "So I didn't ask. Is that Mrs. Picture's writing-table where Dave gets his letters written?"
'Twas a great picture, most of them agreed, admiring the gilt frame larger than any they had ever seen. Senator Kinney was the picture's champion and sponsor.
"Monsieur has made the acquaintance of the dame of our young painter," she said with a free smile a smile too free for malicious meanings. "Monsieur has perhaps seen the young man's picture. It appears that he's d'une jolie force." "His picture's very charming," said Longmore, "but his dame is more charming still." "She's a very nice little woman; but I pity her all the more."
"Oh, the picture's been on my desk each time you've been here," he answered dubiously. "Rainey could have told you." "As a matter of fact, I didn't," said Rainey. Hallowell's eyes lightened with interest. "Didn't you?" he asked. He turned to Vera. "If you can read my mind," he challenged "you," he added, pointing at Vance, "keep out of this now tell me of what I am thinking."
Happy old man! here 'mid th' accustom'd streams And sacred springs, you'll shun the scorching beams; While from yon willow-fence, thy picture's bound, The bees that suck their flow'ry stores around, Shall sweetly mingle with the whispering boughs Their lulling murmurs, and invite repose: While from steep rocks the pruner's song is heard; Nor the soft-cooing dove, thy fav'rite bird, Meanwhile shall cease to breathe her melting strain, Nor turtles from th' aerial elm to 'plain.
In that case you've acquired the best sketch artist in America." "Oh! Are you the artist, then?" asked Patsy, with doubtful intonation. "I don't like the word. I'm not a real artist just a cartoonist and newspaper hack. Say, it's funny to see me in this jungle, isn't it? What joy I'll have in astonishing the natives! I s'pose a picture's a picture, to them, and Art an impenetrable mystery.
This is nearly common form in well-organized households. She went on to refer to other gratifying revivals that would come about on Mrs. Picture's return. The sofy should be stood back against the wall, for dolly to be put to sleep on. And Queen Victoria she should go up on one nail, and Prince Halbert on the other.
"Well, what of it? It shows that the King of Ruritania and your humble servant are as like as two peas." My brother shook his head. "I suppose so," he said. "But I should know you from the man in the photograph." "And not from the picture in the paper?" "I should know the photograph from the picture: the picture's very like the photograph, but " "Well?" "It's more like you!" said my brother.
He went downtown and had a hasty lunch, jealous of every moment that was not spent on his picture. The sight of it as he re-entered the room sent a thrill all over him; he was succeeding better than he could have expected, doing better than he thought he would. He felt sure that now he should do good work; every stage of the picture's progress was an inspiration for the next one.
Picture's writing-table drawer, stood open! But only a little way, to show. For the lady's hands alone were to open it clear out, to remove the contents. Gwen felt that perhaps she had undertaken this responsibility rashly. It is rather a ticklish matter to tamper unbidden with locks. So confident was she that old Mrs.
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