Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me. He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight. ‘One does not blow off the head of a man with whom one is in love, en effet. No means were neglected to accomplish this end. 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.
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