Lescott shook his head, dubiously.
"Samson is a genius," he said.
"What's thet?"
"He has great gifts—great abilities to become a figure in the world."
She nodded her head, in prompt and full corroboration.
"I reckon Samson'll be the biggest man in the mountings some day."
"He ought to be more than that."
Suspicion at once cast a cloud across the violet serenity of her eyes.
"What does ye mean?" she demanded.
"I mean"—the painter paused a moment, and then said bluntly—"I mean that I want to take him back with me to New York."