"Haven't you been thinking of her steadily for—well, we'll say ten minutes?" demanded Booth.
Leslie reddened. "Nonsense!"
"That's a mental telepathy sketch," said the artist, complacently.
"When did you do it?"
"This instant, you might say. See! Here is the crayon point. I always carry one around with me for just such—"
"All right," said Leslie blandly, at the same time putting the envelope in his own pocket; "we'll let it go at that. If you're so clever at mind pictures, you can go to work and make another for yourself. I mean to keep this one."
"I say," began Booth, dismayed.
"One's thoughts are his own," said the happy possessor of the sketch. He turned his back on them.
Sara was contrite. "He will never give it up," she lamented.
"Is he really hard hit?" asked Booth in surprise.