“Wouldn’t you rather finish your sketch some other time?”
“No; I am ashamed now that I did not accept your suggestion with greater enthusiasm—Look up, Reginald! that’s the idea—in the beginning. That double curve where the jowl meets the neck is different from anything I’ve seen in another subject. Unless you’re tired, I’ll be grateful for four or five minutes longer.”
He had hardly glanced at the girl. Clearly the pig was claiming his whole attention. She turned upon Reginald a look that paralyzed him with amazement, and then addressed the Artist in her softest voice:—
“Do you think your automobile will be safe where you left it, Arthur?”
“Oh, yes, perfectly. Look! the intelligence of Reginald is wonderful. I was just wishing for a more serious expression, and he has already assumed it. Wonderful, really wonderful!”
“If some mischievous boy should tamper with the rubber tires, I should feel to blame,” said Galatea. “There are no boys about here.”
“No danger. Now if you’ll lift that bit of chiffon out of Reginald’s eyes—Oh, you frightened the poor chap!”
Galatea turned her back on the pig. Once more she tried to show her amicable intentions.
“I didn’t quite understand your explanation of your new sparking device, Arthur. Does the spark ignite the gasolene? Or does the gasolene ignite the—”
“Yes, that’s right—Would you mind giving me one look at Reginald with the hat off? I want to be sure about that right ear.”