“As like as life, Sir,” observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. “As like as life.”
“The very face,” exclaimed Gay, advancing to look at it;—“with all the escapes written in it.”
“You flatter me,” smiled Sir James. “But, I own, I think it is like.”
“What do you think of my sketch, Jack?” said Hogarth, handing him the drawing.
“It's like enough, I dare say,” rejoined Sheppard. “But it wants something here.” And he pointed significantly to the hand.
“I see,” rejoined Hogarth, rapidly sketching a file, which he placed in the hands of the picture. “Will that do?” he added, returning it.
“It's better,” observed Sheppard, meaningly. “But you've given me what I don't possess.”
“Hum!” said Hogarth, looking fixedly at him. “I don't see how I can improve it.”
“May I look at it, Sir!” said Austin, stepping towards him.
“No,” replied Hogarth, hastily effacing the sketch. “I'm never satisfied with a first attempt.”