The painter showed his pictures to Maurice.
"Oh, Ronnie," said the latter. "You put me out of temper with my own work."
"My dear chap, I'm awfully sorry," apologized Ronnie, and, without waiting, hurried from the studio.
"Whatever's the matter?" asked Jenny, awakened by this brief interview.
"I wish people wouldn't come in and interrupt me when I'm at work," Maurice grumbled. "It's frightfully inconsiderate. You don't want to look at damned paintings when you're working in another medium."
"Who were they of?"
"You, of course."
"Why didn't he show them to me?"
"Because I jumped down his throat, I suppose."
"Whatever for?"