"From boyhood Malcolm Herrick had been a lover of the picturesque.
In secret he prided himself on possessing the artistic faculty, and
yet, except in the nursery, he had never drawn a line, or later on
spoilt canvas and daubed himself in oils under the idea that he was
an embryo Millais or Turner. But nevertheless he had the seeing
eye, and could find beauty where more prosaic people could only see
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