This man unable to manage his own happineſſe, grew ſo inſolent that he could not go, but either ſpurning his equals, or trampling on his inferiours.

When I look over at Chase[…] he stares back at Baron with such withering froideur that he resembles one of those Dust Bowl farmers in a Dorothea Lange portrait.

Bidding did not reach the reserve price, so the lot was withdrawn.

Love don't come easy, I know that it don't