<h2><SPAN name="THE_ODD_TRICK" id="THE_ODD_TRICK"></SPAN>THE ODD TRICK</h2>
<h3>XV.</h3>
<p><span style="margin-left: 14em;">"O heart of stone, are you flesh, and caught</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 14em;">By that you swore to withstand?"</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 25em;"><i>Maud.</i></span><br/><br/></p>
<p>Outside on the stairs Leander suddenly remembered that his purpose
might be as far as ever from being accomplished. The house was being
watched: to be seen leaving it would procure his instant arrest.</p>
<p>Hastily excusing himself to the goddess, he rushed down to his
laboratory, where he knew there was a magnificent beard and moustache
which he had been constructing for some amateur theatricals. With these,
and a soft felt hat, he completed a disguise in which he flattered
himself he was unrecognisable.</p>
<p>The goddess, however, penetrated it as soon as he rejoined her. "Why
have you thus transformed yourself?" she inquired coldly.</p>
<p>"Because," explained Leander, "seeing the police are all on the look-out
for me, I thought it couldn't do any harm."</p>
<p>"It is useless!" she returned.</p>
<p>"To be sure," he agreed blankly, "they'll expect me to go out disguised.
If only they aren't up to the way out by the back! That's our only
chance now."</p>
<p>"Leave all to me," she replied calmly; "with Aphrodite you are safe."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>And he never did quite understand how that strange elopement was
effected, or even remember whether they left the house from the front or
rear. The statue glided swiftly on, and, grasping a corner of her robe,
he followed, with only the vaguest sense of obstacles overcome and
passed as in a dream.</p>
<p>By the time he had completely regained his senses he was in a crowded
thoroughfare, which he recognised as the Gray's Inn Road.</p>
<p>A certain scheme from which, desperate as it was, he hoped much, might
be executed as well here as elsewhere, and he looked about him for the
aid on which he counted.</p>
<p>"Where, then, lives the wise man whom you would consult?" said
Aphrodite.</p>
<p>Leander went on until he could see the coloured lights of a chemist's
window, and then he said, "There—right opposite!"</p>
<p>He felt strangely nervous himself, but the goddess seemed even more so.
She hung back all at once, and clutched his arm in her marble grasp.</p>
<p>"Leander," she said, "I will not go! See those liquid fires glowing in
lurid hues, like the eyes of some dread monster! This test of yours is
needless, and I fear it."</p>
<p>"Lady Venus," he said earnestly, "I do assure you they're only big
bottles, and quite harmless too, having water in them, not physic.
You've no call to be alarmed."</p>
<p>She yielded, and they crossed the road. The shop was small and
unpretending. In the window the chief ornaments were speckled plaster
limbs clad in elastic socks, and photographs of hideous complaints
before and after treatment with a celebrated ointment; and there<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</SPAN></span> were
certain trophies which indicated that the chemist numbered dentistry
among his accomplishments.</p>
<p>Inside, the odour of drugs prevailed, in the absence of the subtle
perfume that is part of the fittings of a fashionable apothecary, and on
the very threshold the goddess paused irresolute.</p>
<p>"There is magic in the air," she exclaimed, "and fearful poisons. This
man is some enchanter!"</p>
<p>"Now I put it to you," said Leander, with some impatience, "does he
<i>look</i> it?"</p>
<p>The chemist was a mild little man, with a high forehead, round
spectacles, a little red beak of a nose, and a weak grey beard. As they
entered, he was addressing a small and draggled child from behind his
counter. "Go back and tell your mother," he said, "that she must come
herself. I never sell paregoric to children."</p>
<p>There was so little of the wizard in his manner that the goddess, who
possibly had some reason to mistrust a mortal magician, was reassured.</p>
<p>As the child retired, the chemist turned to them with a look of bland
and dignified inquiry (something, perhaps the consciousness of having
once passed an examination, sustains the meekest chemist in an inward
superiority). He did not speak.</p>
<p>Leander took it upon himself to explain. "This lady would be glad to be
told whether a ring she's got on is the real article or only imitation,"
he said, "so she thought you could decide it for her."</p>
<p>"Not so," corrected the goddess, austerely. "For myself I care not!"</p>
<p>"Have it your own way!" said Leander. "<i>I</i> should like to be told, then.
I suppose, mister, you've some way of testing these things?"</p>
<p>"Oh yes," said the chemist; "I can treat it for you<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</SPAN></span> with what we call
<i>aquafortis</i>, a combination of nitric and hydrochloric acid, which would
tell us at once. I ought to mention, perhaps, that so extremely powerful
an agent may injure the appearance of the metal if it is of inferior
quality. Will the lady oblige me with the ring?"</p>
<p>Aphrodite extended her hand with haughty indifference. The chemist
examined the ring as it circled her finger, and Leander held his breath
in tortures of anxiety. A horrible fear came over him that his deep-laid
scheme was about to end in failure.</p>
<p>But the chemist remarked at last: "Exactly; thank you, madam. The gold
is antique, certainly; but I should be inclined to pronounce it, at
first sight, genuine. I will ascertain how this is, if you will take the
trouble to remove the ring and pass it over!"</p>
<p>"Why?" demanded Aphrodite, obstinately.</p>
<p>"I could not undertake to treat it while it remains upon your hand," he
protested. "The acid might do some injury!"</p>
<p>"It matters not!" she said calmly; and Leander recollected with horror
that, as any injury to her statue would have no physical effect upon the
goddess herself, she could not be much influenced by the chemist's
reason.</p>
<p>"Do what the gentleman tells you," he said, in an eager whisper, as he
drew her aside.</p>
<p>"I know your wiles, O perfidious one," she said. "Having induced me to
remove this token, you would seize it yourself, and take to flight! I
will not remove this ring!"</p>
<p>"There's a thing to say!" said Leander; "there's a suspicion to throw
against a man! If you think I'm likely to do that, I'll go right over
here, where I can't even see it, and I won't stir out till it's all
over. Will<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</SPAN></span> that satisfy you? You know why I'm so anxious about that
ring; and now, when the gentleman tells you he's almost sure it's
gold——"</p>
<p>"It <i>is</i> gold!" said the goddess.</p>
<p>"If you're so sure about it," he retaliated, "why are you afraid to have
it proved?"</p>
<p>"I am not afraid," she said; "but I require no proof!"</p>
<p>"I do," he retorted, "and what I told you before I stand to. If that
ring is proved—in the only way it can be proved, I mean, by this
gentleman testing it as he tells you he can—then there's no more to be
said, and I'll go away with you like a lamb. But without that proof I
won't stir a step, and so I tell you. It won't take a moment. You can
see for yourself that I couldn't possibly catch up the ring from here!"</p>
<p>"Swear to me," she said, "that you will remain where you now stand; and
remember," she added, with an accent of triumph, "our compact is that,
should yonder man pronounce that the ring has passed through the test
with honour, you will follow me whithersoever I bid you!"</p>
<p>"You have only to lead the way," he said, "and I promise you faithfully
I'll follow."</p>
<p>Goddesses may be credited with some knowledge of the precious metals,
and Aphrodite had no doubt of the result of the chemist's
investigations. So it was with an air of serene anticipation that she
left Leander upon this, and advanced to the chemist's counter.</p>
<p>"Prove it now," she said, "quickly, that I may go!"</p>
<p>The chemist, who had been waiting in considerable bewilderment, prepared
himself to receive the ring, and Leander, keeping his distance, felt his
heart beating fast<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</SPAN></span> as Aphrodite slowly drew the token from her finger,
and placed it in the chemist's outstretched hand.</p>
<p>Scarcely had she done so, as the chemist was retiring with the ring to
one of his lamps, before the goddess seemed suddenly aware that she had
committed a fatal error.</p>
<p>She made a stride forward to follow and recover it; but, as if some
unseen force was restraining her, she stopped short, and a rush of
whirling words, in some tongue unknown both to Leander and the chemist,
forced its way through lips that smiled still, though they were freezing
fast.</p>
<p>Then, with a strange hoarse cry of baffled desire and revenge, she
succeeded, by a violent effort, in turning, and bore down with
tremendous force upon the cowering hairdresser, who gave himself up at
once for lost.</p>
<p>But the marble was already incapable of obeying her will. Within a few
paces from him the statue stopped for the last time, with an abruptness
that left it quivering and rocking. A greyish hue came over the face,
causing the borrowed tints to stand forth, crude and glaring; the arms
waved wildly and impotently once or twice, and then grew still for ever,
in the attitude conceived long since by the Grecian sculptor!</p>
<p>Leander was free! His hazardous experiment had succeeded. As it was the
ring which had brought the passionate, imperious goddess into her marble
counterfeit, so—the ring once withdrawn—her power was instantly at an
end, and the spell which had enabled her to assume a form of stone was
broken.</p>
<p>He had hoped for this, had counted upon it, but even yet hardly dared to
believe in his deliverance.</p>
<p>He had not done with it yet, however; for he would have to get the
statue out of that shop, and abandon it in some manner which would not
compromise himself,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</SPAN></span> and it is by no means an easy matter to mislay a
life-size and invaluable antique without attracting an inconvenient
amount of attention.</p>
<p>The chemist, who had been staring meanwhile in blank astonishment, now
looked inquiringly at Leander, who looked helplessly at him.</p>
<p>At last the latter, unable to be silent any longer, said, "The lady
seems unwell, sir."</p>
<p>"Why," Leander admitted, "she does appear a little out of sorts."</p>
<p>"Has she had these attacks before, do you happen to know?"</p>
<p>"She's more often like this than not," said Leander.</p>
<p>"Dear me, sir; but that's very serious. Is there nothing that gives
relief?—a little sal volatile, now? Does the lady carry smelling salts?
If not, I could——" And the chemist made an offer to come from behind
his counter to examine the strange patient.</p>
<p>"No," said Leander, hastily. "Don't you trouble—you leave her to me. I
know how to manage her. When she's rigid like this, she can't bear to be
taken notice of."</p>
<p>He was wondering all the time how he was to get away with her, until the
chemist, who seemed at least as anxious for her departure, suggested the
answer: "I should imagine the poor lady would be best at home. Shall I
send out for a cab?" he asked.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Leander, gratefully; "bring a hansom. She'll come round
better in the open air;" for he had his doubts whether the statue could
be stowed inside a four-wheeler.</p>
<p>"I'll go myself," said the obliging man; "my assistant's out. Perhaps
the lady will sit down till the cab comes?"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Thanks," said Leander; "but when she's like this, she's been
recommended to stand."</p>
<p>The chemist ran out bare-headed, to return presently with a cab and a
small train of interested observers. He offered the statue his arm to
the cab-door, an attention which was naturally ignored.</p>
<p>"We shall have to carry her there," said Leander.</p>
<p>"Why, bless me, sir," said the chemist, as he helped to lift her,
"she—she's surprisingly heavy!"</p>
<p>"Yes," gasped Leander, over her unconscious shoulder; "when she goes off
in one of these sleeps, she does sleep very heavy"—an explanation
which, if obscure, was accepted by the other as part of the general
strangeness of the case.</p>
<p>On the threshold the chemist stopped again. "I'd almost forgotten the
ring," he said.</p>
<p>"<i>I'll</i> take that!" said Leander.</p>
<p>"Excuse me," was the objection, "but I was to give it back to the lady
herself. Had I not better put it on her finger, don't you think?"</p>
<p>"Are you a married man?" asked Leander, grimly.</p>
<p>"Yes," said the chemist.</p>
<p>"Then, if you'll take my advice, I wouldn't if I was you—if you're at
all anxious to keep out of trouble. You'd better give the ring to me,
and I give you my word of honour as a gentleman that I'll give it back
to her as soon as ever she's well enough to ask for it."</p>
<p>The other adopted the advice, and, amidst the sympathy of the
bystanders, they got the statue into the cab.</p>
<p>"Where to?" asked the man through the trap.</p>
<p>"Charing Cross," said Leander, at random; he ought the drive would give
him time for reflection.</p>
<p>"The 'orspital, eh?" said the cabman, and drove off,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</SPAN></span> leaving the mild
chemist to stare open-mouthed on the pavement for a moment, and go back
to his shop with a growing sense that he had had a very unusual
experience.</p>
<p>Now that Leander was alone in the cab with the statue, whose attitude
required space, and cramped him uncomfortably, he wondered more and more
what he was to do with it. He could not afford to drive about London for
ever with her; he dared not take her home; and he was afraid of being
seen with her!</p>
<p>All at once he seemed to see a way out of his difficulty. His first step
was to do what he could, in the constantly varying light, to reduce the
statue to its normal state. He removed the curls which had disfigured
her classical brow, and, with his pocket-handkerchief, rubbed most of
the colour from her face; then the cloak had only to be torn off, and
all that could betray him was gone.</p>
<p>Near Charing Cross, Leander told the driver to take him down Parliament
Street, and stop at the entrance to Scotland Yard; there the cabman, at
Leander's request, descended, and stared to find him huddled up under
the gleaming pale arms of a statue.</p>
<p>"Guv'nor," he remarked, "that warn't the fare I took up, I'll take my
dying oath!"</p>
<p>"It's all right," said Leander. "Now, I tell you what I want you to do:
go straight in through the archway, find a policeman, and say there's a
gentleman in your cab that's found a valuable article that's been
missing, and wants assistance in bringing it in. I'll take care of the
cab, and here's double fare for your trouble."</p>
<p>"And wuth it, too," was the cabman's comment, as he departed on his
mission. "I thought it was the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</SPAN></span> devil I was a drivin', we was that down
on the orfside!"</p>
<p>It was no part of Leander's programme to wait for his return; he threw
the cloak over his arm, pocketed his beard, and slipped out of the cab
and across the road to a spot whence he could watch unseen. And when he
had seen the cabman come with two constables, he felt assured that his
burden was in safe hands at last, and returned to Southampton Row as
quickly as the next hansom he hailed could take him.</p>
<p>He entered his house by the back entrance: it was unguarded; and
although he listened long at the foot of the stairs, he heard nothing.
Had the Inspector not come yet, or was there a trap? As he went on, he
fancied there were sounds in his sitting-room, and went up to the door
and listened nervously before entering in.</p>
<p>"Oh, Miss Collum, my poor dear!" a tremulous voice, which he recognised
as his aunt's, was saying, "for Mercy's sake, don't lie there like that!
She's dying!—and it's my fault for letting her come here!—and what am
I to say to her ma?"</p>
<p>Leander had heard enough; he burst in, with a white, horror-stricken
face. Yes, it was too true! Matilda was lying back in his crazy
armchair, her eyes fast closed, her lips parted.</p>
<p>"Aunt," he said with difficulty, "she's not—not <i>dead</i>?"</p>
<p>"If she is not," returned his aunt, "it's no thanks to you, Leandy
Tweddle! Go away; you can do no good to her now!"</p>
<p>"Not till I've heard her speak," cried Tweddle. "Tillie, don't you
hear?—it's me!"</p>
<p>To his immense relief, she opened her eyes at the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</SPAN></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</SPAN></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</SPAN></span> sound of his voice,
and turned away with a feeble gesture of fear and avoidance. "You have
come back!" she moaned, "and with her! Oh, keep her away!... I can't
bear it all over again!... I can't!"</p>
<p>He threw himself down by her chair, and drew down the hands in which she
had hidden her face. "Matilda, my poor, hardly-used darling!" he said,
"I've come back <i>alone</i>! I've got rid of her, Tillie! I'm free; and
there's no one to stand between us any more!"</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="THREW_HIMSELF_DOWN" id="THREW_HIMSELF_DOWN"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/ill-p275.jpg" width-obs="351" height-obs="500" alt="HE THREW HIMSELF DOWN BY HER CHAIR, AND DREW DOWN THE HANDS IN WHICH SHE HAD HIDDEN HER FACE." title="" /> <span class="caption">HE THREW HIMSELF DOWN BY HER CHAIR, AND DREW DOWN THE HANDS IN WHICH SHE HAD HIDDEN HER FACE.</span></div>
<p>She pushed back her disordered fair hair, and looked at him with sweet,
troubled eyes. "But you went away with her—for ever?" she said. "You
said you didn't love me any longer. I heard you ... it was just
before——" and she shuddered at the recollection.</p>
<p>"I know," said Leander, soothingly. "I was obligated to speak harsh, to
deceive the—the other party, Tillie. I tried to tell you, quiet-like,
that you wasn't to mind; but you wouldn't take no notice. But there, we
won't talk about it any more, so long as you forgive me; and you do,
don't you?"</p>
<p>She hid her face against his shoulder, in answer, from which he drew a
favourable conclusion; but Miss Tweddle was not so easily pacified.</p>
<p>"And is this all the explanation you're going to give," she demanded,
"for treating this poor child the way you've done, and neglecting her
shameful like this? If she's satisfied, Leandy, I'm not."</p>
<p>"I can't help it, aunt," he said. "I've been true to Tillie all the way
through, in spite of all appearances to the contrary—as she knows now.
And the more I explained, the less you'd understand about it; so we'll
leave things where they are. But I've got back the ring, and now you
shall see me put it on her finger."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>It seemed that Leander had driven to Scotland Yard just in time to save
himself, for the Inspector did not make his threatened search that
evening.</p>
<p>Two or three days later, however, to Leander's secret alarm, he entered
the shop. After all, he felt, it was hopeless to think of deceiving
these sleuth-hounds of the Law: this detective had been making
inquiries, and identified him as the man who had shared the hansom with
that statue!</p>
<p>His knees trembled as he stood behind his glass-topped counter. "Come to
make the search, sir?" he said, as cheerfully as he could. "You'll find
us ready for you."</p>
<p>"Well," said Inspector Bilbow, with a queer mixture of awkwardness and
complacency, "no, not exactly. Tweddle, my good fellow, circumstances
have recently assumed a shape that renders a search unnecessary, as
perhaps you are aware?"</p>
<p>He looked very hard at Tweddle as he spoke, and the hairdresser felt
that this was a crucial moment—the detective was still uncertain
whether he had been mixed up with the affair or not. Leander's faculty
of ready wit served him better here than on past occasions.</p>
<p>"Aware? No, sir!" he said, with admirable simplicity. "Then that's why
you didn't come the other evening! I sat up for you, sir; all night I
sat up."</p>
<p>"The fact of the matter is, Tweddle," said Bilbow, who had become
suddenly affable and condescending, "I found myself reduced, so to
speak, to make use of you as a false clue, if you catch my meaning?"</p>
<p>"I can't say I do quite understand, sir."</p>
<p>"I mean—of course, I saw with half an eye, bless your soul, that you'd
had nothing to do with it—it wasn't likely that a poor chap like you
had any<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</SPAN></span> knowledge of a big plant of that description. No, no; don't you
go away with that idea. I never associated you with it for a single
instant."</p>
<p>"I'm truly glad to hear it, Mr. Inspector," said Leander.</p>
<p>"It was owing to the line I took up. There were the real parties to put
off their guard, and to do that, Tweddle—to do that, it was necessary
to appear to suspect you. D'ye see?"</p>
<p>"I think it was a little hard on me, sir," he said; "for being suspected
like that hurts a man's feelings, sir. I did feel wounded to have that
cast up against me!"</p>
<p>"Well, well," said the Inspector, "we'll go into that later. But, to go
on with what I was saying. My tactics, Tweddle, have been crowned with
success—the famous Venus is now safe in my hands! What do you say to
that?"</p>
<p>"Say? Why, what clever gentlemen you detective officers are, to be
sure!" cried Leander.</p>
<p>"Well, to be candid, there's not many in the Department that would have
managed the job as neatly; but, then, it was a case I'd gone into, and
thoroughly got up."</p>
<p>"That I'm sure you must have done, sir," agreed Leander. "How ever did
you come on it?" He felt a kind of curiosity to hear the answer.</p>
<p>"Tweddle," was the solemn reply, "that is a thing you must be content to
leave in its native mystery" (which Leander undoubtedly was). "We in the
Criminal Investigation Department have our secret channels and our
underground sources for obtaining information, but to lay those channels
and sources bare to the public would serve no useful end, nor would it
be an expedient act on my part. All you have any claim to be told is,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</SPAN></span>
that, however costly and complicated, however dangerous even, the means
employed may have been (that I say nothing about), the ultimate end has
been obtained. The Venus, sir, will be restored to her place in the
Gallery at Wricklesmarsh Court, without a scratch on her!"</p>
<p>"You don't say so! Lor!" cried Leander, hoping that his countenance
would keep his secret, "well, there now! And my ring, sir, if you
remember—isn't <i>that</i> on her?"</p>
<p>"You mustn't expect us to do everything. Your ring was, as I had every
reason to expect it would be, missing. But I shall be talking the matter
over with Sir Peter Purbecke, who's just come back to Wricklesmarsh from
the Continent, and, provided—ahem!—you don't go talking about this
affair, I should feel justified in recommending him to make you some
substantial acknowledgment for any—well, little inconvenience you may
have been put to on account of your slight connection with the business,
and the steps I may have thought proper to take in consequence. And,
from all I hear of Sir Peter, I think he would be inclined to come down
uncommonly handsome."</p>
<p>"Well, Mr. Inspector," said Leander, "all I can say is this: if Sir
Peter was to know the life his statue has led me for the past few days,
I think he'd say I deserved it—I do, indeed!"</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<h2>CONCLUSION.</h2>
<p>The narrow passage off Southampton Row is at present without a
hairdresser's establishment, Leander having resigned his shop, long
since, in favour of either a fruiterer or a stationer.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>But, in one of the leading West End thoroughfares there is a large and
prosperous hair-cutting saloon, over which the name of "Tweddle"
glitters resplendent, and the books of which would prove too much for
Matilda, even if more domestic duties had not begun to claim her
attention.</p>
<p>Leander's troubles are at end. Thanks to Sir Peter Purbecke's
munificence, he has made a fresh start; and, so far, Fortune has
prospered him. The devices he has invented for correcting Nature's more
palpable errors in taste are becoming widely known, while he is famous,
too, as the gifted author of a series of brilliant and popular
hairwashes. He is accustoming his clients to address him as
"Professor"—a title which he has actually had conferred upon him from a
quarter in which he is, perhaps, the most highly appreciated—for
prosperity has not exactly lessened his self-esteem.</p>
<p>Mr. Jauncy, too, is a married man, although he does not respond so
heartily to congratulations. There is no intimacy between the two
households, the heads of which recognise that, as Leander puts it,
"their wives harmonise better apart."</p>
<p>To the new collection of Casts from the Antique, at South Kensington,
there has been recently added one which appears in the official
catalogue under the following description:—</p>
<p>"<i>The Cytherean Venus.</i>—Marble statue. Found in a grotto in the Island
of Cerigo. Now in the collection of Sir Peter Purbecke, at Wricklesmarsh
Court, Black-heath.</p>
<p>"This noble work has been indifferently assigned to various periods; the
most general opinion, however, pronounces it to be a copy of an earlier
work of Alkamenes, or possibly Kephisodotos.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"The unusual smallness of the extremities seems to betray the hand of a
restorer, and there are traces of colour in the original marble, which
are supposed to have been added at a somewhat later period."</p>
<p>Should Professor Tweddle ever find himself in the Museum on a Bank
Holiday, and enter the new gallery, he could hardly avoid seeing the
magnificent cast numbered 333 in the catalogue, and reviving thereby
recollections he has almost succeeded in suppressing.</p>
<p>But this is an experience he will probably spare himself; for he is
known to entertain, on principle, very strong prejudices against
sculpture, and more particularly the Antique.</p>
<h4>THE END.</h4>
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