"I have to make my living."
"But you can do anything."
"Go away, now, I'm going to make a dust," she smilingly suggested.
He obeyed, but she heard him walking the studio, up and down. Presently he came to the door again.
"Couldn't you find something to do in the studio? I'm so desperately lonesome to-day."
Her own heart had prompted that phrase too often to let her smile at it.
"All right, in a few minutes. I'll find some mending to do."
After a while she came into the studio, and sat down by the big window, her sewing basket beside her. Jerry watched her quiet directness of movement. He noted the straight line of her back, the bend of her dark head outlined against the gray sheets of rain outside. Her sombre gown was relieved by a splash of red, gold, and blue Chinese embroidery, which she was mending.
"I'm always wondering lately, what you are thinking about, Jane Judd," he said.
"At this moment, I am thinking that it was careless to let this beautiful thing be torn."