"
"The undomestic life of the Nilghai, then. Of course. Mass-meeting of his wives
in Trafalgar Square. That's it. They came from the ends of the earth to attend
Nilghai's wedding to an English bride. This shall be an epic. It's a sweet
material to work with."
"It's a scandalous waste of time," said Torpenhow.
"Don't worry; it keeps one's hand in--specially when you begin without the
pencil." He set to work rapidly. "That's Nelson's Column. Presently the Nilghai
will appear shinning up it."
"Give him some clothes this time."
"Certainly--a veil and an orange-wreath, because he's been married."
"Gad, that's clever enough!" said Torpenhow over his shoulder, as Dick brought
out of the paper with three twirls of the brush a very fat back and labouring
shoulder pressed against stone.
"Just imagine," Dick continued, "if we could publish a few of these dear little
things every time the Nilghai subsidises a man who can write, to give the
public an honest opinion of my pictures."
"Well, you'll admit I always tell you when I have done anything of that kind. I
know I can't hammer you as you ought to be hammered, so I give the job to
another. Young Maclagan, for instance----"
"No-o--one half-minute, old man; stick your hand out against the dark of the
wall-paper--you only burble and call me names.
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