A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence. “I must try the Directory. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament.
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