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‘I don’t care what they say. I shall go on just the same. I
know I’ve got it in me. I feel I’m an artist. I’d sooner kill
myself than give it up. Oh, I shan’t be the first they’ve all
laughed at in the schools and then he’s turned out the only
genius of the lot. Art’s the only thing I care for, I’m willing
to give my whole life to it. It’s only a question of sticking to
it and pegging away”
She found discreditable motives for everyone who would
not take her at her own estimate of herself. She detested
Clutton. She told Philip that his friend had no talent really;
it was just flashy and superficial; he couldn’t compose a fig-
ure to save his life. And Lawson:
‘Little beast, with his red hair and his freckles. He’s so
afraid of Foinet that he won’t let him see his work. After all,
I don’t funk it, do I? I don’t care what Foinet says to me, I
know I’m a real artist.’
They reached the street in which she lived, and with a
sigh of relief Philip left her.

Of Human Bondage