"Only a fungoid growth, I dare say--a growing disease in the lungs," said Deronda, accustomed to treat Hans in brotherly fashion. He was walking toward some drawings propped on the ledge of his bookcases; five rapidly-sketched heads--different aspects of the same face. He stood at a convenient distance from them, without making any remark. Hans, too, was silent for a minute, took up his palette and began touching the picture on his easel.
"What do you think of them?" he said at last.
"The full face looks too massive; otherwise the likenesses are good," said Deronda, more coldly than was usual with him.

"Only a fungoid growth, I dare say," said Deronda, accustomed to treat Hans in brotherly fashion. He walked toward some drawings propped on the bookcases; five rapidly-sketched heads - different aspects of the same face. He looked at them without making any remark.
Hans, too, was silent for a minute, and began touching up the picture on his easel.
"What do you think of them?" he said at last.
"The full face looks too massive; otherwise the likenesses are good," said Deronda, somewhat coldly.
