CHAPTER XXVI Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain rattle behind him. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval. "Why, first," rejoined Austin, "there's Sir James Thornhill, historical painter to his Majesty, and the greatest artist of the day. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. Do take them away from me after I have had four.
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