. “When one is happy—I don’t like to think of them. 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. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it.
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