. “You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. The other kicked over the traces a bit, made rather a hit with her singing at some of those French places, and went the pace in a mild, ladylike sort of way. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. Through all he said ran one quality that pleased her—the quality of a man who feels that things can be done, that one need not wait for the world to push one before one moved. I’ve got imagination. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly.
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