So is his whole life over here--it's the most romantic thing I know." "You mean his idea for his native place ?" "Yes--the collection, the Museum with which he wishes to endow it, and of which he thinks more, as you know, than of anything in the world.
It's the work of his life and the motive of everything he does." The young man, in his actual mood, could have smiled again--smiled delicately, as he had then smiled at her.

"Has it been his motive in letting me have you ?" "Yes, my dear, positively--or in a manner," she had said.
"American City isn't, by the way, his native town, for, though he's not old, it's a young thing compared with him--a younger one.

He started there, he has a feeling about it, and the place has grown, as he says, like the programme of a charity performance.

You're at any rate a part of his collection," she had explained--"one of the things that can only be got over here.

You're a rarity, an object of beauty, an object of price.