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There was a short, red-faced,
resolute youth who inherited an authoritative attitude upon bacteriology from his
father; a Japanese student of unassuming manners who drew beautifully and had
an imperfect knowledge of English; and a dark, unwashed Scotchman with
complicated spectacles, who would come every morning as a sort of volunteer
supplementary demonstrator, look very closely at her work and her, tell her that
her dissections were “fairish,” or “very fairish indeed,” or “high above the
normal female standard,” hover as if for some outbreak of passionate gratitude
and with admiring retrospects that made the facetted spectacles gleam like
diamonds, return to his own place. Her two sticks were bare and
brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. You are an artist by the Divine right
of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will
not be painting. ”
“I have been abroad,” he said.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 04-07-2024 13:26:57