” Ann Veronica was silent for a while. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. “Oh, yes, that’s right, we go to school. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. "Why, first," rejoined Austin, "there's Sir James Thornhill, historical painter to his Majesty, and the greatest artist of the day. I'll try to fill in the gaps. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible.
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