That turned her mind to the more generalized aspects of her perplexities again. 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. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. The ruffian's companions took his part. "He called me a wanton, Hoddy.
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