7/11 He must be a shop-boy!" I dropped the tools, and rushed away to my sitting-room. My mortification was complete, and it was of a kind that Rubens could not understand. Fortunately for me, he simply went with my humour, without being particular as to the reason of it, like the tenderest of women. Our way home lay through some flat green meads, crossed by a stream, which, in its turn, was crossed by a little rustic bridge. |