" The Wastrel laughed. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. We shall have—hardly any money. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. Blood, they say, won't come out. " After narrowly examining the countenance of the sitter, and motioning him with his pencil into a particular attitude, Sir James Thornhill commenced operations; and, while he rapidly transferred his lineaments to the canvass, engaged him in conversation, in the course of which he artfully contrived to draw him into a recital of his adventures.
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