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How curious it all seemed! And his mother with her Lady Hamilton

face and her moist, wine-dashed lips-he knew what he had got from

her. He had got from her his beauty, and his passion for the

beauty of others. She laughed at him in her loose Bacchante

dress. There were vine leaves in her hair. The purple spilled

from the cup she was holding. The carnations of the painting had

withered, but the eyes were still wonderful in their depth and

brilliancy of colour. They seemed to follow him wherever he went.