" He took her face between his hands and kissed her on the lips. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell. ‘You have rifled his papers. "Why, first," rejoined Austin, "there's Sir James Thornhill, historical painter to his Majesty, and the greatest artist of the day.
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