She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. Possessed, at one time, of a share in the South Sea stock, he conceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds. Ireton and his friends to taste it. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. ” “It’s some sort of delirium,” said Capes.
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