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’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. ’ She bit her lip, frowning. ” “Ennison here thought he saw her in London,” Meddoes remarked. Racing, he reached it perhaps a moment or two later. " "Yes, there was one," observed Ireton.
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