The first time Oscar Wilde loomed on my horizon I was painting, together with Charlotte McCarthy and my sister, a portrait ofJustin McCarthy the younger, in their hospitable house in Bloomsbury. Our model had got himself up in mediaeval finery and we had chalked in our outlines, when an announcement came, somewhat pontifically, from a tall, stout young man, leaning with his back to the window. What he said, very deliberately, was the strange phase, ‘I can never consent to be led by — a bacon merchant!’
KeywordsExpense Straw Chalk
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