And the rest of the time I shall paint--paint like Old Harry!' The words caused a momentary wrinkling of Mr.Morrison's brow.
'I should avoid those expressions, if I were you, Fenwick.

But paint what, my dear boy ?--paint what ?' 'Of course I have my ideas,' said Fenwick, staring at the floor.
'I think I have earned a right to hear them.' 'Certainly.

I propose to combine the colour and romance of the Pre-Raphaelites with the truth and drawing of the French school,' said the young man, suddenly looking up.
Surprise betrayed his companion into a broad grin.
'Upon my word, Fenwick, you won't fail for lack of ambition!' The young man reddened, then quietly nodded.
'No one gets on without ambition.

My ideas have been pretty clear for a long time.

The English Romantic school have no more future, unless they absorb French drawing and French technique.