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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 101, September 26, 1891 by Various
page 11 of 53 (20%)
still haunting the narrow streets as we look down.

_The Y.L._ I find it impossible to distinguish even the streets from
here, I confess, but you probably see with the imagination of an
artist. _Are_ you one by any chance?

_Culch._ Only in words; that is, I record my impressions in a poetic
form. A perfect sonnet may render a scene, a mood, a passing thought,
more indelibly than the most finished sketch; may it not?

_The Y.L._ That is quite true; indeed, I occasionally relieve my
feelings by the composition of Greek or Latin verses, which I find, on
the whole, better adapted to express the subtler emotions. Don't you
agree with me there?

_Culch._ (_who has done no Greek or Latin verse since he left
school_). Doubtless. But I am hindering your sketch?

_The Y.L._ No, I was merely saturating my mind with the general
effect. I shall not really begin my sketch till to-morrow. I am going
now. I hope the genius of the place will inspire you.

_Culch._ Thank you. I trust it will--er--have that effect. (_To
himself, after the Young Lady has left the terrace._) Now, that's a
very superior girl--she has intellect, style, culture--everything the
ideal woman _should_ have. I wonder, now, whether, if I had met her
before--but such speculations are most unprofitable! How clear her
eyes looked through her _pince-nez_! Blue-grey, like Athene's own. If
I'd been with PODBURY, I should never have had this talk. The sight of
him would have repelled her at once. I shall tell him when I take him
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