"Prosperity," Millar replied, sententiously. "Such tender, soft, exquisite curves are possible only to women who live perfectly. Madam must be the wife of a millionaire."
Karl fell to pacing the floor again, glancing impatiently at the door through which Olga had fled.
"Is she dressing?" asked Millar slyly.
"Yes," Karl answered nervously.
"Is there a mirror in your studio?"
"Yes."
"Madam must be very respectable," Millar said in an insinuating tone; "she takes so long to dress."
"Your remarks are in very bad taste," Karl cried angrily, walking up threateningly to his visitor.
Millar stood erect, without changing his expression of ironical amusement, and said:
"Do you wish to offend me?"