“You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. Fetter Lane, on the left, Gray's Inn, on the right, added their supplies. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. Yet she held her tongue. " "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh.
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