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Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. Wood's advice and assistance, but the thought of the reception she was likely to meet with from his wife deterred her from executing this resolution. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes.
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