Old Bedlam 291 IX. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. He smiled. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. “I hope nothing is wrong. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. Besides these, there was a sturdylooking fellow, whom he instantly recognised as the honest blacksmith who had freed him from his irons at Tottenham.
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