"Oh!"
"Don't look down; keep the pose, please," came somewhat sharply from the man at the easel, as though he were mentally taking himself in hand.
After that, she watched him with increasing interest and, when he turned his head in that listening attitude, a curious, resentful light came into her eyes.
Presently, she asked abruptly, "What is it that you hear?"
"I thought I heard music," he answered, coloring slightly and turning to his work with suddenly absorbing interest.
"The violin that so enchanted you when I came to break the spell?" she persisted playfully--though the light in her eyes was not a playful light.
"Yes," he answered shortly; stepping back and shading his eyes with his hand for a careful look at his canvas.
"And don't you know who it is?"
"You said it was an old professor somebody."
"That was my first guess," she retorted. "Was I right?"