“He admires your appearance,” she answered. “He thinks you a very striking type.”
“Ah! A type! But what of?”
“He didn’t tell me,” she answered.
Arabian was silent for a moment; then he said:
“Does Mr. Dick Garstin get high prices for his portraits? Are they worth a great deal?”
“Yes,” she said, with a sudden light touch of disdain, which she could not forego. “The smallest sketch of a head painted by him will fetch a lot of money.”
“Ah—indeed!”
“Let him paint you! There he is—coming back.”
As Garstin reappeared Arabian turned to him with a smile that looked cordial and yet that seemed somehow wanting in real geniality.
“I have seen them all.”