After such a thoroughly satisfactory day's work, he thought himself justified in satisfying the craving of his heart, which could only happen when he, at least once a day, had a wrangle with Miss Clifford. With this intention he rapidly sought and found her.
During the last few weeks a noticeable change had taken place in Jessie. Some secret trouble, which she did not perhaps acknowledge to herself, cast a shade over the lovely face, which looked paler and more serious than before, and round the mouth, too, lay a half bitter, half painful line which was formerly not there. The presence of Gustave was clearly not likely to cheer her, for she avoided looking at him, and earnestly continued her drawing, while, to all his remarks, she returned only short and unconnected replies.
But it was not so easy to frighten Gustave away. When all his attempts at conversation failed he rose and bent over the half-finished drawing, which he examined with a critical eye.
"A very pretty subject! It promises much, but you must entirely change the perspective, Miss Clifford, it is quite wrong."
At last that produced the intended effect. Jessie raised her head, and looked indignantly at the uncalled adviser.
"You don't draw yourself, Mr. Sandow, I believe?"
"No, but I criticise."
"So I see. Nevertheless you will permit me to retain my perspective as it is, until a real artist has convinced me of its errors."
Gustave calmly took his seat again.
"Just as you please! I propose that we should call in Frida as arbiter. She has remarkable talent for drawing, and it has been cultivated with the greatest care."