\"Why weren't you there?\" She asked Mike. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. They were at the corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill. The theme was a masquerade. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. “I MUST speak to you,” he said. I love you still, Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman.
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