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They all stood around on the sloppy floor of the clay room as she undid the moist wrappings of her half-finished head. As the cloths were laid aside, there was a disheartening silence. "Better," said Griffin tersely. "We're so filled with other people's ideas that we've degenerated into regular copy-cats. I can't undertake any subject but that I have a lot of designs by famous painters popping into my mind and mixing me up horribly." "That I shall certainly do," said Maurice, for he was resolved to learn all he could about this strange man, so that he could protect Isabella from his arts..

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"I have a postscript to add," smiled Bruce. "Sometimes, as you know, the postscript is of great importance." David did as he was told, and snatched up his own ulster after wrapping up Isabella. In the library they found the major reopening the shutters of the window, which he had closed on the girl's entry. When he flung them aside a gust of wind blew inward, sprinkling him with moisture. At first he read and smoked, then he paced up and down, thinking of his dead lad, and finally, as the hands of the clock drew to midnight, he threw himself into a chair, and worn out in body and in mind, the old man slept profoundly. Hour after hour passed in silence; the moon set and the night grew darker, as the wind rose and moaned through the woods round the house. Save the muttering of the breeze and the ticking of the clock not a sound was to be heard in that silent room wherein Jen slept heavily. "When will you return?".