Page 385 - of-human-bondage-

‘It’s awful cheek my sending anything,’ said Flanagan,
‘but I don’t care, I’m going to send. D’you think they’re rot-
ten?’
‘Not so rotten as I should have expected,’ said Philip.
They showed in fact an astounding cleverness. The dif-
ficulties had been avoided with skill, and there was a dash
about the way in which the paint was put on which was sur-
prising and even attractive. Flanagan, without knowledge
or technique, painted with the loose brush of a man who
has spent a lifetime in the practice of the art.
‘If one were forbidden to look at any picture for more
than thirty seconds you’d be a great master, Flanagan,’
smiled Philip.
These young people were not in the habit of spoiling one
another with excessive flattery.
‘We haven’t got time in America to spend more than thir-
ty seconds in looking at any picture,’ laughed the other.
Flanagan, though he was the most scatter-brained per-
son in the world, had a tenderness of heart which was
unexpected and charming. Whenever anyone was ill he
installed himself as sick-nurse. His gaiety was better than
any medicine. Like many of his countrymen he had not
the English dread of sentimentality which keeps so tight a
hold on emotion; and, finding nothing absurd in the show
of feeling, could offer an exuberant sympathy which was
often grateful to his friends in distress. He saw that Philip
was depressed by what he had gone through and with unaf-
fected kindliness set himself boisterously to cheer him up.
He exaggerated the Americanisms which he knew always

Of Human Bondage