Frost unblighted; the Slowes evince emotion, at least the female Slowes,
as he shoots by them with that sliding bow. He looks from side to side,
with the rapid glance of an eye in which light seems all dance and
sparkle: he sees the soliloquist under the meagre tree; the pace
quickens, the lips part half laughing.

"Don't scold, Vance. I am late, I know; but I did not make allowance for
interceptions."

"Body o' me, interceptions! For an absentee just arrived in London, you
seem to have no lack of friends."

"Friends made in Paris and found again here at every corner, like
pleasant surprises,--but no friend so welcome and dear as Frank Vance."

"Sensible of the honour, O Lionello the Magnificent. Verily you are /bon
prince!/ The Houses of Valois and of Medici were always kind to artists.
But whither would you lead me? Back into that treadmill? Thank you,
humbly; no."

"A crowd in fine clothes is of all mobs the dullest. I can look
undismayed on the many-headed monster, wild and rampant; but when the
many-headed monster buys its hats in Bond Street, and has an eyeglass at
each of its inquisitive eyes, I confess I take fright. Besides, it is
near seven o'clock; Putney not visible, and the flounders not fried!"

"My cab is waiting yonder; we must walk to it: we can keep on the turf,
and avoid the throng. But tell me honestly, Vance, do you really dislike
to mix in crowds; you, with your fame, dislike the eyes that turn back to
look again, and the lips that respectfully murmur, 'Vance the Painter'?