Titian shook his head. "How should I know?"
"He said he was going to you."
"Zarato?" Titian started. "For the portrait—He will be there!"
Giorgione broke into a harsh laugh. "No portrait for Zarato!" He said it exultantly.
"What do you mean!"
"He bears a beauty mark." He laughed again.
"You did not——?"
Giorgione glanced cunningly about the studio. His big face worked and his eyes were flushed. He laid his hand on his lips.
"Hush!" he said. "It is a secret—I—she—branded him with this." A piece of heavy iron lay on the sill—the wood near it blackened and charred. He took it up fondly.
"Look!" He pointed to the fire-worn end.