"Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew. 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. “I murder people, John. " So there was always plenty of mail. "Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped me the wink.
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