"Not quite it," he said; and then wandering right away from the subject, "I wish I'd known you were in New York. You didn't work under your own name there."
"That's so. I used to sign just 'Louis.'"
"Will you draw me a picture of Maryska—for my house? A thousand dollars now and another thousand when it's delivered?"
Louis drew back a little.
"Why the girl?"
"You must know why. There couldn't be a better subject."
"Yes; but if I do not choose to do it, what then?"
"Why, then I'm beaten."
He threw away the stump of his cigarette and took another. Presently Maryska returned with the flask of white wine and the glasses were chinked. The child drank a draught which would have put a vintner to shame. Then she showed her pretty teeth.
"Oh, how good!" she said, and then with a heavenly sigh, "Ecco c'e vuoto."