They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. On your own. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. But this was not a season in which to be needlessly scrupulous. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. ’ The fury welled.
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