The studio bell rang. He walked to the door and opened it. A bewilderingly pretty girl stood there.
"Miss Davis?" she inquired sweetly. "I have an appointment."
"Come in," said Cleland, the flush of wrath still on his countenance.
The girl entered; he offered her a chair.
"Miss Davis happens to be out at the moment," he said, "but I don't believe she'll be very long."
"Do you mind my waiting?" asked the pretty girl.
"No, I don't," he said, welcoming diversion. "Do you mind my being here? Or are you going to put me out?"
She looked surprised, then she laughed very delightfully:
"Of course not. Miss Davis and I have known each other for a long while, and I owe her a great deal and I am devoted to her. Do you think I'd be likely to banish a friend of hers? Besides, I'm only one of her models."
"A model?" he repeated. "How delightful! I also am a model—of good behaviour."