"Yes; and be left high and dry after two or three years, neither one thing nor the other."
"Isn't that looking pretty far ahead?"
"It's not looking farther ahead than a girl has to. It's easy enough to talk. There you'd be, able to walk off without a sign on you; whereas I'd have to lie down and die or—or find some one else."
"Well, there'd be that possibility, wouldn't there? They're not so difficult for a pretty girl to find when—"
She stamped her foot.
"I hate you!"
"Oh no, you don't, Jennie. You love me—only, you won't let yourself—"
"And I never will—never—never—never! Not if I was starving in the streets—so help me God!"
She was running toward the model's exit when he called after her.
"Then you leave me to work with another woman, Jennie—another woman sitting in your place—another woman—" When she threw him a despairing glance he snatched the sketch from the table and held it up to her. "Another woman—dressed like that!"