Ninitta rose from her position and hurried toward the screen behind which she dressed.
"Don't let him in," she said. "He knows me."
The bell rang again, as they stood looking at each other.
"I will try to send him off," Arthur said. "Dress as quickly as you can."
She retreated behind the screen while he went to the door and unlocked it. Instantly Irons stepped inside.
"You must excuse me," the artist said. "I'll be ready for you in fifteen minutes. I have a model here, and got to painting so busily that I forgot the time. Come back in a quarter of an hour."
"Oh, I don't mind," Irons said, advancing into the studio. "I'll look round until you are ready."
"But I never admit sitters when I have a model," Fenton protested, standing before him. "I shall have to ask you to go."
The other stopped and looked at the artist with suspicion in his eyes.
"What a fuss you make," he commented coarsely. "No intrigue, I suppose?"