He was dressed immaculately in a suit of heavy Shantung silk. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. G'night, kids. " "I don't understand you," replied Kneebone, in some confusion. Hogarth," he observed, significantly. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910.
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