My only love is for my poor lost son. Wood. She knew the truth of it all right. He yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused. Her head swam. Amiable and good-looking. 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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