"Yes," said Warner. "My headquarters are in Paris, but every summer I take a class of American art students—girls—to Saïs for outdoor instruction. I've half a dozen there now, plugging away at Plein Air."
"Do you like to teach?"
"Well, not particularly. It interferes with my own work. But I have to do it. Painting pictures doesn't keep the kettle boiling."
"I see."
"I don't really mind it. Saïs is a charming place; I've known it for years. Besides, a friend of mine lives there—an American woman, Madame de Moidrey. Her sister, Miss Brooks, is one of the young girls in my class. So it makes it agreeable; and Madame de Moidrey is very hospitable."
Halkett smiled.
"Painters," he said, "have, proverbially, a pretty good time in life."
"Soldiers do, too; don't they?"
Halkett's smile became fixed.
"I've heard so. The main thing about a profession is to choose one which will take you out of doors."