The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. When Jeremiah admired the Compasses in the arms of the Carpenter's Company over the chimney-piece, or the portraits of the two eminent masters of the rule and plane, William Portington, and John Scott, Esquires, on either side of it, Solomon was lost in wonder. "Sir Rowland must be gone.
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