But she must not laugh. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. "It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth.
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