The fellow is little better than a lunatic. “But where are you going? Lucy, you’re safe here. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up.
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