"Oh I understand; I shall come,"—and Peter knew he grew red.
"It will be idiotic. Keep him, keep him away—don't let him," Miriam insisted to Biddy; with which, as Nick's portals now were gaping, she drew her mother away.
Peter, at this, walked off briskly with Biddy, dropping as he did so: "She's too fantastic!"
"Yes, but so tremendously good-looking. I shall ask Nick to take me there," the girl said after a moment.
"Well, she'll do you no harm. They're all right, as she says. It's the world of art—you were standing up so for art just now."
"Oh I wasn't thinking so much of that kind," she demurred.
"There's only one kind—it's all the same thing. If one sort's good the other is."
Biddy walked along a moment. "Is she serious? Is she conscientious?"
"She has the makings of a great artist," Peter opined.
"I'm glad to hear you think a woman can be one."