He was vaguely uneasy; he knew not what about. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. I know London better than you, and I have had to earn my own living. On weighing the matter over, he grew so uneasy that he resolved to descend, and inform him of his misgivings. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp.
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