Thomas Moran Fort George Island painting

Thomas Moran Fort George Island paintingThomas Moran Cliffs of Green River paintingThomas Moran A Pastoral Landscape painting
just thought you might.”
“Well, think again.”
They had walked three sides of the square and were now at the door of Head’s House. Mr. Graves was standing outside his own room talking to Mr. Peacock.
“Charles,” he said, “come here a minute. Have you met this young man yet, Peacock? He’s one of yours.”
“Yes, I think so,” said Mr. Peacock doubtfully.
“He’s one of my problem children. Come in here, Charles. I want to have a chat to you.”
Mr. Graves took him by the elbow and led him into his room.
There were no fires yet and the two armchairs stood before an empty grate; everything was unnaturally bare and neat after the cleaning.
“Sit you down.”
Mr. Graves filled his pipe and gave Charles a long, soft and quizzical stare. He was a man still under thirty, dressed in Lovat tweed with an Old Rugbeian tie. He had been at Spierpoint during Charles’s first term and they had met once on the miniature range; in that bleak, untouchable epoch Charles had been warmed by his affability. Then Mr. Graves was called up for the army and now had returned, the term before, as House Tutor of Head’s