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"
You
’
re
doing
it
.
Dorcas
,
fetch
Ben
a
glass
of
warm
milk
;
he
’
s
sick
.
"
"
Without
too
much
soda
,
"
amended
Ben
,
"
and
milk
the
bottle
with
the
three
dimples
in
it
.
Private
talk
,
Jubal
.
"
"
All
right
,
up
to
my
study
–
although
if
you
think
you
can
keep
anything
from
the
kids
around
here
,
let
me
in
on
your
method
.
"
After
Ben
finished
greeting
properly
(
and
somewhat
unsanitarily
,
in
three
cases
)
the
members
of
the
family
,
they
moseyed
upstairs
.
Ben
said
,
"
What
the
deuce
?
Am
I
lost
?
"
"
Oh
.
You
haven
’
t
seen
the
alterations
,
have
you
?
A
new
wing
on
the
north
,
which
gives
us
two
more
bedrooms
and
another
bath
downstairs
–
and
up
here
,
my
gallery
.
"
"
Enough
statues
to
fill
a
graveyard
!
"
"
Please
,
Ben
.
‘
Statues
’
are
dead
politicians
at
boulevard
intersections
.
What
you
see
is
‘
sculpture
.
’
And
please
speak
in
a
low
,
reverent
tone
lest
I
become
violent
?
for
here
we
have
exact
replicas
of
some
of
the
greatest
sculpture
this
naughty
globe
has
produced
.
"
"
Well
,
that
hideous
thing
I
’
ve
seen
before
?
but
when
did
you
acquire
the
rest
of
this
ballast
?
"
Jubal
ignored
him
and
spoke
quietly
to
the
replica
of
La
Belle
Heaulmire
.
"
Do
not
listen
to
him
,
ma
petite
chre
–
he
is
a
barbarian
and
knows
no
better
.
"
He
put
his
hand
to
her
beautiful
ravaged
cheek
,
then
gently
touched
one
empty
,
shrunken
dug
.
"
I
know
just
how
you
feel
but
it
can
’
t
be
very
much
longer
.
Patience
,
my
lovely
.
"
