about your pa; one gentleman kept on repeating to himself— 'Beautiful! beautiful! What perfection
of colouring!' and after he had gone away, and I thought I had seen the last of him, he came back,
and stared at the picture again and again."
"Of course, as you know, dear Miss Angel, I had seen that picture times enough before it was
finished; I had watched it grow from shadows so indistinct that you couldn't make out what they
were meant for into those two women going towards each other to kiss; and, as your pa said,
I couldn't be expected to look at it with quite the same eyes as other people—it was like watching
a conjurer's trick when you know all the while how it's done—but I must say it's a most wonderful
picture—so real, I felt as though I had only to stretch out my hand, and touch two living women,
and I didn't wonder any longer that your pa is considered clever. I think it was very nice