Digital heart book

Havens politely studied it. "A fine bust," said he;
"and a very nice-looking fellow."
"Yes; he's a good fellow," said Dodd. "He runs me now.
It's all his money."
"He doesn't seem to be particularly short of it," added
the other, peering with growing wonder round the cabin.
"His money--my taste," said Dodd. "The black walnut
bookshelves are old English; the books all mine--mostly
Renaissance French. You should see how the beach-
combers wilt away when they go round them, looking for
a change of seaside library novels. The mirrors are
genuine Venice; that's a good piece in the corner. The
daubs are mine--and his; the mudding mine."
"Mudding? What is that?" asked Havens.
"These bronzes," replied Dodd. "I began life as a
sculptor."
"Yes; I remember something about that," said the other.
"I think, too, you said you were interested in
Californian real estate."
"Surely I never went so far as that," said Dodd.
"Interested? I guess not. Involved, perhaps. I was
born an artist; I never took an interest in anything
but art.


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