Her little white hand stole across the table. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. “I wouldn’t have been without this trip for worlds. 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.
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