“You have been very ill, then?”
“Yes, monsieur,” curtly and distantly.
“I wondered very much at not seeing you. I was alarmed.”
“I do not see why monsieur should feel alarm.”
“Of course, on account of my picture,” he said awkwardly. Then laying down his palette and brushes, he saw that the model gave a sudden start, but once more stood motionless as he took out his pocket-book, and withdrew the pencil.
“Will you give me your address?”
“Why should monsieur wish for my address?”
“To communicate with you. If I had known, I should have been spared much anxiety. Tell me, and I will write it down.”
“With that of the women who wait monsieur’s orders? No!”
This was spoken so imperiously that Dale replaced the pencil and book, and took up palette and brushes.