The explosive "Ha!" was repeated, and the girl felt herself thoroughly assayed by the shrewd old eyes.
"You are a close student of Mr. Atwood, my dear," came dryly. "Perhaps you are a critic of contemporary art?"
Jean reddened, but, surprising the twinkle behind the sarcasm, laughed.
"Is it probable?" she asked.
"It's possible. Half the celebrities I meet seem young enough to be my grandchildren. But you are telling me nothing. Are you one of Julie Van Ostade's discoveries? She collects geniuses, you know. What is your name?"
Jean told her.
"It means nothing, you see," she smiled. "I am only a student."
"Of painting?"
"No; sculpture."
"Are you! But you look original. Where are you at work? I hope you don't mind my questions? I'm an inquisitive old person."