“Why should it matter?” he said. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. How men suffer for the foolish things they do!" "Ay to that. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. "If you'll write them, I'll illustrate them," observed Hogarth. They almost made me feel like they were mine.
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