"You have the same model you had last year?" queried Sylvie.
Their eyes met, and Varillo shifted uneasily in his chair.
"The same," he replied curtly.
Again Sylvie laughed.
"Immaculate creature!" she murmured, "The noblest of her sex, of course! Men always call the women who pander to their vices 'noble'."
Varillo flushed an angry red.
"You are pleased to be sarcastic, fair lady." he said carelessly, "I do not understand—"
"No? You are not usually so dense with me, though to those who do not know you as well as I do, you sometimes appear to be the very stupidest of men! Now be frank!—tell me, is not Pon-Pon one of the 'noble' women?"
"She is a very good creature," averred Varillo gently, and with an air that was almost pious,—"She supports her family entirely on her earnings."
"How charming of her!" laughed Sylvie, "And so exceptional a thing to do, is it not? My dressmaker does the same thing,—she 'supports' her family; but respectably! And just think!—if ever your right hand loses its cunning as a painter, Angela will be able to 'support' YOU!"