"Admirable husband! And what is the opus?"
She began to outline the idea of a sustained piece of work, based on her own experience and thoughts. She told her plot dramatically and well. To any one who knew her as the silent Jane, this pulsing creature would have been a marvel. There was something in Christiansen that gave her tongue. She was at ease with him, sure of complete understanding.
They argued, they planned, they debated points of psychology, they were perfectly absorbed and unaware of time. Into this meeting came Jerry, angry as he could possibly be at Jane's defection, but infuriated when he saw the cause.
"Jerry!" she exclaimed, at sight of him.
"Don't let me interrupt you, pray. Good-afternoon, Mr. Christiansen."
"But the tea isn't over?"
"Naturally. It is after seven."
"I had no idea it was so late," said Christiansen, rising. "Have I kept you from some social duty, Mrs. Paxton?"
"No doubt she was glad of an excuse," laughed Jerry forcedly.
"Miss Morton had a tea to exhibit Jerry's portrait. It was dreadful of me to forget," she said earnestly.