“And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. And then I came here. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush.
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