"Come," he said, "I am hurried. Let's see the portrait."
Nevins tossed a silk scarf from a canvas in the corner, and the other regarded the work for a moment in silence.
"Yes, I like it," he said. "I like it very much indeed."
As he turned away, he stumbled against the easel containing the canvas on which Nevins had been working, and he started and drew back, his face paling. It was the portrait of Mariana, her profile drawn against the purple curtain.
Nevins, following him with his eyes, spoke suddenly.
"That also is good, is it not?" he asked.
Father Algarcife stared above the portrait to the row of death-masks on their ebony frame.
"Yes, that also is good," he repeated.
As he descended the stairs he met Ardly coming up, his eyes bright and his handsome face aglow.
They stopped and shook hands.