"
"Compare paint with paint," said Quin. "Are you sure you ever saw down to
Peggy's real face?"
Triplet had seen with alarm that Mr. Snarl spoke not; many satirical
expressions crossed his face, but he said nothing. Triplet gathered from
this that he had at once detected the trick. "Ah!" thought Triplet, "he
means to quiz them, as well as expose me. He is hanging back; and, in
point of fact, a mighty satirist like Snarl would naturally choose to
quiz six people rather than two."
"Now I call it beautiful!" said the traitor Soaper. "So calm and
reposeful; no particular expression."
"None whatever," said Snarl.
"Gentlemen," said Triplet, "does it never occur to you that the fine arts
are tender violets, and cannot blow when the north winds--"
"Blow!" inserted Quin.
"Are so cursed cutting?" continued Triplet.
"My good sir, I am never cutting!" smirked Soaper. "My dear Snarl,"
whined he, "give us the benefit of your practiced judgment. Do justice to
this ad-mirable work of art," drawled the traitor.
"I will!" said Mr. Snarl; and placed himself before the picture.
"What on earth will he say?" thought Triplet. "I can see by his face he
has found us out."
Mr. Snarl delivered a short critique. Mr. Snarl's intelligence was not
confined to his phrases; all critics use intelligent phrases and
philosophical truths. But this gentleman's manner was very intelligent;
it was pleasant, quiet, assured, and very convincing.
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