“Because I haven’t any orders. Isn’t that sad?”
“Yes.... But you could paint a picture just to please yourself, couldn’t you?”
“I haven’t anybody to paint from,” he explained with amiable indifference, lazily watching the effect of alternate shadow and sunlight on her upturned face.
“Couldn’t you find—somebody?” Her heart had suddenly begun to beat very fast.
Barres laughed:
“Would you like to have your portrait painted?”
She could scarcely find voice to reply:
“Will you—let me?”
The slim young figure down there in the April sunshine had now arrested his professional attention. With detached interest he inspected her for a few moments; then:
“You’d make an interesting study, Dulcie. What do you say?”