“What is it all about?” she said.
“Call it,” I answered, “a psychologic exercise in paint.”
“Then it is not a picture?”
“O! yes it is—or at least I hope so.”
“But—” she shook her head—“I do not understand. A picture is a picture, and a sum is a sum, and a psychologic exercise is a psychologic exercise.”
“You mean they are not assimilable terms. What, then, is your definition of a picture?”
She considered, drawing thoughtfully at her cigarette.
“I think,” she said presently, “it is art—just that.”
“Well, what is art?”
Again she considered, and answered, “Form.”