"Oh, Ronnie, you—pal! How lovely of you! I never thought you were such a brick! Madame looked like hell—she's pinched all my jewelry and now she'll have to give it up. Ronnie, how can I thank you?"
"Lola—come to my flat, I want to talk to you."
François who opened the door to them was not surprised. After all, one could not expect Ronald Morelle to improve in every respect. It was a pleasure to work for him, he was so considerate. Lola settled herself in the most comfortable corner of the settee and waited for François to go.
"You will have some tea?" Ronnie gave the order to a servant who was no less surprised than Lola.
"What have you done with that picture that was over the mantelpiece?" asked the girl, seeing a blankness of wall.
"I've burned it," said Ronnie.
"But it was worth thousands, Ronnie! You told me so."
"It was worth a few hundreds. If it had been a Titian I would not have destroyed it—it had its use in a gallery. But it was not. Worth a few hundreds perhaps. I burned it. François cut it into strips and we burned it in the furnace fire. François and I had a great day. He did not think the picture was pretty."
"It was your favorite?"
"Was it?" He was astonished. "Well, it is burned: It was too ugly. The subject—no the figures were a little ugly. Now, Lola, what are you going to do?"