"Oh, well, then, the wife of the Master of Ananias. Let us give her her honours. She's the most entirely beautiful woman I've seen. But—"
"But what?"
"Oh, well. I did a very good portrait of her. The old boy didn't like it."
"What old boy?"
"The Master. He tried to stop my showing it. And so did the other old boy."
"What other old boy?"
"The Bishop."
"But if it was so good?"
"It was. It was exact. It was the living woman. It was a portrait of sheer, exquisite flesh."
"Well, then," said Ingeborg.