Arthur Hughes The Property Room painting

Arthur Hughes The Property Room paintingArthur Hughes A Music Party paintingArthur Hughes Asleep in the Woods painting
machine to take a closer look at my peculiar visitor. I was tolerably certain that he was not one of the enthusiasts for my work who occasionally beset me, but was either a beggar or a madman or both; at another time I should have sent him away, but that afternoon, with no prospect of other interest, I hesitated. “Be a good scout,” he urged. ought to have a yarn, and you know how suspicious these porter-fellows are at clubs. I knew you wouldn’t mind my stretching a point.” He spoke with a kind of fierce jauntiness. “I had to give up my club. Couldn’t run to it.”
“Perhaps you will tell me what I can do for you.”
“I used to belong to the Wimpole. I expect you know it?”
“I’m not sure that I do.”
“No? You would have liked it. I could
There is at my club a nondescript little room of depressing aspect where members give interviews to the press, go through