“Sir Seymour’s had a good look at your portrait, Arabian.”
“Indeed!” said Arabian.
“And he thinks it’s damn fine. As I’m giving it to you, I thought you’d like to know that it’s appreciated.”
There was an unmistakably malicious expression on Garstin’s face as he spoke, and his small eyes travelled quickly from Arabian to Sir Seymour.
“In fact,” added Garstin, lifting the decanter to pour the whisky into Arabian’s glass, “Sir Seymour is so pleased with my work that I shouldn’t wonder if he lets me paint him.”
“Ah!” said Arabian, looking at Sir Seymour, with a sudden hard intensity which strangely transformed his face, “this is good news. I am pleased. But—thank you!” (to Garstin who poured out some more whisky) “that will do, please! But you are not afraid of the drawback?”
“What drawback?” asked Sir Seymour.
“Mr. Dick Garstin makes us all look like canaille!”
“Indeed!”
“But have you not noticed this?” said Arabian.