Carlton could see nothing else.
"Come on, I say," urged Georgie; "come an' make faces, quick, sharp!"
And he dragged the sculptor to his rude studio.
"There it is, there it is," shouted Georgie, spying the unfinished head high up on the shelf. "You did say you finish fen I come back. Finish—finish—quick, sharp!"
Carlton brought the thing outside, for the shed was close, and went to work at the foot of his ladder, with Georgie sitting on the lowest rung. And any merit which the rough attempt had possessed was speedily removed by an over-elaboration on which Georgie insisted, and which certainly served its purpose by earning his vociferous applause.
"Oh, his eyes! What funny eyes! Make them open and shut, I say—can you?"
A doll, which Gwynneth had unearthed, before she knew her Georgie very well, had retained this accomplishment even when the head was off its body.
"I'm afraid I can't do that," said Carlton.
"Try—try."
So Carlton gouged in the soft stone till the holes for the eyeballs had disappeared.