"Well, to begin with, you certainly must have a studio in which you can receive your customers, ... where you can show them who you are, and what you can do, and how far you are capable of carrying out your designs. This is the only method of ensuring those who give you orders treating you as a crafts-woman and not a mere ordinary work-woman."
"But they won't come to me to give their orders," she interposed.
"They should do so, undoubtedly," he exclaimed, working himself up into a decorous enthusiasm. "An artist who has any self-respect ought never to step outside his door to offer his wares to the public, and I advise you to act on this principle."
She mentally calculated the number of rings, pendants, and bracelets that she had left, and replied, smiling:
"It's more easily said than done."
He grew bold. "My old and intimate friendship with Walter"--he used his Christian name for the first time--"entitles me to the privilege of--how shall I put it?--making provision ..."
She foresaw what was coming and choked him off.
"I am quite content where I am," she declared. "And till I am able, out of my own resources, to provide myself with the surroundings you are kind enough to wish for me, I do not feel justified in making a change."
He bowed, his zeal perceptibly cooled. He asked her at least to leave her present address, so that he might send her the desired information.
Hesitating, she gave the number and name of the street where she lodged, and added the request that he would not think of calling on her.