"Six months ago, for a few days, it represented Gabriel Nash," Nick replied. "But it isn't anybody or anything now."
"Six months ago? What's the matter with it and why don't you go on?"
"What's the matter with it is more than I can tell you. But I can't go on because I've lost my model."
She had an almost hopeful stare. "Is he beautifully dead?"
Her brother laughed out at the candid cheerfulness, hopefulness almost, with which this inquiry broke from her. "He's only dead to me. He has gone away."
"Where has he gone?"
"I haven't the least idea."
"Why, have you quarrelled?"—Biddy shone again.
"Quarrelled? For what do you take us? Docs the nightingale quarrel with the moon?"
"I needn't ask which of you is the moon," she said.