"I'll come early—I'll come at one," he said; and for a moment they stood all deeply and intimately taking each other in.
"Do you think I want to wait, any more than you?" she asked in congruity with this.
"I don't feel so much out of it now!" he declared by way of answer. "You'll stay of course now—you'll give up your visits?"
She had hold of the lappet of his coat; she had kept it in her hand even while she detached herself from his embrace. There was a white flower in his buttonhole that she looked at and played with a moment before she said; "I've a better idea—you needn't come to Griffin. Stay in your studio—do as you like—paint dozens of pictures."
"Dozens? Barbarian!" Nick wailed.
The epithet apparently had an endearing suggestion for her; it at any rate led her to let him possess himself of her head and, so holding it, kiss her—led her to say: "What on earth do I want but that you should do absolutely as you please and be as happy as you can?"
He kissed her in another place at this; but he put it to her; "What dreadful proposition is coming now?"
"I'll go off and do up my visits and come back."
"And leave me alone?"
"Don't be affected! You know you'll work much better without me. You'll live in your studio—I shall be well out of the way."