"I see no reason to at present," said Stanwell drily. "But I won't pretend to be ashamed when I'm not. I think there are occasions when a man is justified in doing what I've done."
She looked at him solemnly. "What occasions?"
"Why, when he wants money, hang it!"
She drew a deep breath. "Money—money? Has Caspar's example been nothing to you, then?"
"It hasn't proved to me that I must starve while Mungold lives on truffles!"
Again her face changed and she stirred uneasily, and then rose to her feet.
"There is no occasion which can justify an artist's sacrificing his convictions!" she exclaimed.
Stanwell rose too, facing her with a mounting urgency which sent a flush to his cheek.
"Can't you conceive such an occasion in my case? The wish, I mean, to make things easier for Caspar—to help you in any way you might let me?"
Her face reflected his blush, and she stood gazing at him with a wounded wonder.