"
Mrs. Sampson understood that this was a snub, and her cheek flushed.
Wilson laughed maliciously.
"Oh, everybody reads the _Gossip_," Rangely interposed, good-naturedly
coming to the rescue; "although it's to the credit of humanity that
everybody has the grace to be ashamed of it."
There was a bustle and stir in the crowd as Tom Bently pushed his way
up to the group.
"By Jove, Rangely," he said, "have you got on to that statue? Do you
know what it's cribbed from?"
"No," returned Fred; "is it from anything in particular? I supposed it
was just a general steal from the antique, and Stanton appropriates
only to destroy."
"I don't know what it is," was Bently's reply, "but I know there's a
cut of it in a book I've got at the studio."
Rangely's eyes flashed.
"Good," said he, "I'll come round to-night and we'll look it up. I'm
going to do a notice of the _America_ for the _Observer_."
The two exchanged significant glances, laughing inwardly at the
discomfiture of the unfortunate sculptor.
"But don't you admire the figure?" asked Mrs. Sampson, eagerly seizing
an opportunity to get into the conversation.
"It's the kind of thing I should have liked when I was young," Bently
returned. "I was taught to like that sort of thing; but all the
preliminary rubbish that was plastered on to me when I was a youngster,
I have shed as a snake sheds its skin.
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