The girl settled herself into the pose, glanced at the clock, and then turning to Gethryn said, “And I am to look at you, am I not?”
“Where could you find a more charming object?” murmured he, sorting his brushes.
“Thank you,” she pouted, stealing a glance at him; “than you?”
“Except Mademoiselle Elise. There, now we begin!”
The rest of the hour was disturbed only by the sharp rattle of brushes and the scraping of the palette knife.
“Are you tired?” asked Gethryn, looking at the clock; “you have ten minutes more.”
“No,” said the girl, “continue.”
Finally Gethryn rose and stepped back.
“Time,” he said, still regarding his work. “Come and give me a criticism, Elise.”
The girl stretched her limbs, and then, stepping down, trotted over to Gethryn.