His eyes came back to hers.
“Pretty hard task you’ve got, Inga.”
“Please be patient—just a while longer. I know it’ll all come back.”
“Wish you were right.”
“It will; it will. I’ve even seen it in your eyes, the way you look at things, that group in the restaurant, the old woman with the newspapers.”
“Seeing is one thing; doing is another.”
“But why don’t you try?” she said hesitatingly. At this, he turned and glanced longingly at the easel in the corner.
“Oh, if you only would! I’d pose for you all day long!” she cried eagerly.
But at this he shrank back, a tortured, doubting look passed over his face, and he sprang up angrily, crying,
“No, no, no!”