“Well, shall I do?” she asked, turning her smile on him.
Middleton felt as if it were a battery of guns, as he answered that he would be the happiest painter in the world if she would honor him.
“Head only, of course,” she continued.
“Of course,” said he hastily; “unless, that is, you will give me hands and arms too.”
“I think not. My hands are not so good.” And she glanced at her kid gauntlets with a smile.
“And—er—as to terms?” he stammered.
“Oh, the usual terms,” she answered briskly.
Middleton hinted at pre-payment.
“I’m not allowed to take that,” she said. “Come, I will ask for what I want when the time comes. You won’t refuse me?”