"I will redeem all these things, never fear," he said, gayly.
"Oh—if you only can.... It is too cruel to take such things from you."
The emotion in her eyes and voice surprised him for one troubled moment. Then the selfishness of the artist ignored all else save the work and the opportunity.
"You will help me, won't you?" he asked. "It is a promise?"
"Yes—I will."
"Is it a promise?"
"Yes," she said, wondering.
"Then please sit here. I will bring the sketches. They merely represent my first idea; they are done without a living model." He was off, lighting a match as he hastened. A tapestry fell back into place; she lifted her blue eyes to the faded figures of saints and seraphim stirring when the fabric moved.