"And yet, I suppose it would seem a little matter to most people. The odd thing is that it assumes such paramount importance in my life; for I'm not what is called specially conscientious, except as regards my art, of course, and the ordinary honourable dealings one decent man naturally has with his fellows."
"Your conscience, in fact, limits its operations a good deal, I know."
"Precisely. But if it will not bore you, I will tell you something of all this."
"Thank you, Sir Graham."
"How the wind shakes those curtains!"
"Nothing will keep it out of these island houses. You aren't cold?"
"Not in body, not a bit. Well, Uniacke, do you ever go to see pictures?"
"Whenever I can. That's not often now. But when my work lay in cities I had chances which are denied me at present."
"Did you ever see a picture of mine called 'A sea urchin'?"
"Yes, indeed—that boy looking at the waves rolling in!—who could forget him? The soul of the sea was in his eyes. He was a human being, and yet he seemed made of all sea things."