You're Mister Wild's pris'ner, and worse luck to it!" "I don't ask you to liberate me," urged Thames; "but will you convey a message for me?" "Where to, honey?" "To Mr. Ill-drawn, without method or sense of proportion, you have put wonderful things on to canvas, have drawn them out of yourself, notwithstanding your mechanical inefficiency. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely.
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