Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. ’ *** The tapping for which Melusine had been waiting came at last. It was not a hard face, but it was resolute. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. It was explosive and gratifying. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm.
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