“Of course I do. I couldn’t show him the door, could I? He’s made an ass of himself, but it’s none of my business. They’ll have to patch it up between them. Don’t get excited, Gregg, and don’t forget that the jury meets this afternoon at four o’clock in my studio.”
“I will be there,” replied Adam curtly, “but I cannot stay very long. I have an appointment at four.”
The room was full of his brother painters when, some hours later, his red Spanish boina on his head—he always wore it when at work—Gregg entered the studio on the floor below his own. It was the first informal meeting of the Jury of the Academy, and an important one. Some of the men were grouped about the fire, smoking, or lolling in their chairs; others were stretched out on the lounges; two or three were looking over some etchings that had been brought in by a fellow-member. All had been awaiting Adam’s arrival. Those who had been gathered about the portrait were discussing Gregg’s denunciation of Hartman. All agreed that with their knowledge of the man’s universal kindness and courtesy that the outburst was as unaccountable as it was astounding.
Gregg shook hands with the group, one by one, those who were reclining rising to their feet and the others pressing forward to greet him; then drawing out a chair at the end of the long table, he called the meeting to order. As he took his seat a man of thirty in an overcoat, his hat in his hand, walked hurriedly in through the open door, and stood for a moment looking about him, a sickly, wavering expression on his face, as if uncertain of his welcome. It was Hartman.
He was a member of the Council, and therefore privileged to attend any meeting.
Gregg pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, a certain flash of indignation in his eyes that few of his friends had ever seen.
“Stop where you are, Mr. Hartman,” he said in low, cutting tones. “I prefer to conduct this meeting without you.”
“And I prefer to stay where I am,” answered Hartman in an unsteady voice, gazing about as if in search of some friendly eye. “I have as much right to be at this meeting as you have,” he continued, advancing towards the pile of coats and hats.