Figg?" asked Gay. We did not know where to send … in case you died. Men were going hither and thither with barrows, and ladders and ropes, removing the rubbish, and trying to support the tottering habitations. Through no fault of her own. His smile faded. Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. ” He looked at her thoughtfully. "I'm surprised you've not asked that question before, Sir Rowland. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. ” The shock of their intellectual attitude was over, usage robbed it of the first quaint effect of deliberate unreason. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor.
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