“There wasn’t any!” repeated Drene, with curt contempt. “Don’t talk about her, anyway.”
“You mean I’m not to talk about a common artist’s model—”
“Not that way.”
“Oh. Is she yours?”
“She isn’t anybody’s, I fancy. Therefore, let her alone, or I’ll throw you out of doors.”
Quair said to Guilder after they had departed:
“Fancy old Drene playing about with that girl on a strictly pious basis! He’s doubtless dub enough to waste his time. But what’s in it for her?”
“Perhaps a little unaccustomed masculine decency.”
“Everybody is decent enough to her as far as I know.”
“Including yourself?”