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The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. "If any one's to blame, it's me. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare.
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