“I remember when you walked me home. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. Profoundly. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. And, in applying the term to his friend, Thames meant to pay him a high compliment. I am come to serve you. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. 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 loved her beyond anything in heaven or on earth—to idolatry. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. Gerald sighed.
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