“Where it ought to hang, I mean. You see—”
“Over the piano, you said. The jolly old piano.”
“Yes, but I hadn’t seen it then.”
A monstrous suspicion flitted for an instant into Archie’s mind.
“I say, you do like it, don’t you?” he said anxiously.
“Oh, Archie, darling! Of course I do! And it was so sweet of you to give it to me. But, what I was trying to say was that this picture is so—so striking that I feel that we ought to wait a little while and decide where it would have the best effect. The light over the piano is rather strong.”
“You think it ought to hang in a dimmish light, what?”
“Yes, yes. The dimmer the—I mean, yes, in a dim light. Suppose we leave it in the corner for the moment—over there—behind the sofa, and—and I’ll think it over. It wants a lot of thought, you know.”
“Right-o! Here?”
“Yes, that will do splendidly. Oh, and, Archie.”