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. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. So completely! The oddest fitness! What is it made of? Texture of skin and texture of mind? Complexion and voice. ” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug. ” “Far away?” “I have no idea,” Anna answered.
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