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 heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. Why don't you try to find out how the every-day Chinese lives, how he treats his family, what his normal habits are, his hopes, his ambitions? Why don't you come to China as I went to America—with an open mind?" "You're on," said O'Higgins, briskly. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. ‘Oh, ah. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. “Before I met you I was deluded into receiving upon friendly terms a man named Hill, who passed himself off as Meysey Hill the railway man, but who was in reality an Englishman in poor circumstances. But how close? She glanced about at the shrouded furnishings for possible cover. He walked unsteadily towards the door. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service.
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