He looked at it silently for several moments.
"Jerry has sensed it, too," he said. "This is a fine thing—his best."
"He can paint, if I can get him away from those portraits."
"It's a cursed thing for an artist to be clever. He would better be mediocre. It's your husband's curse. He may have a big gift, but if his cleverness is the thing the rabble want to buy, and he sells it to them, his gift is doomed."
"Who's doomed?" said Jerry, coming in, glowing from his long tramp in the rain.
"You are, if you paint Mrs. Abercrombie Brendon, when you can do this," Christiansen answered.
"You like that?"
"This has feeling and excellent painting. It is real, vital, fine."
"I felt I had something there."
"You've got a pretty knack with pretty ladies, but don't let it ruin you."