“No, do me any way you like,” she consented.
“Oh, if you feel that way about it,” he hinted audaciously.
Breen went over to the model throne and pretended to place the chair for her. He was sorry that he had had to suggest even a pencil sketch of her, but he was forced to attempt some part of their original agreement. What is more, he had practically cast away all thought of “studying” Erna, later to make his report before the triumvirate. She was too interesting and magnetic an individual to be used for such a childish purpose. “Come over here and sit down,” he requested calmly.
Giving herself an unexpected air of modesty, she complied, at the same time adding a prudish touch by fixing her skirt carefully as she sat down. Breen was puzzled, but drew up a chair, took a pencil and sketch book and seated himself. “I’m going ta draw you at close range,” he apologized. She smiled in encouragement.
Breen commenced drawing, very carelessly, it is true. Erna watched him with innocent eyes. “Do I pose right?” she asked at length.
“Yes,” he assured her.
She was silent.
A little later, she asked: “Do your models have to keep quiet?”
“Not at all! Chatter away!”