When the picture was finished he turned to Kedzie and said, “My God, you're great!” He turned to Ferriday. “Isn't she, Mr.—Fenimore?”
“I think so,” said Ferriday; “and the world will think so soon.”
Kedzie shook her head. “I'm only a beginner. I don't know anything at all.”
“Why, you're a genius!” Dyckman exploded. “You're simply great. You know everything; you—”
Ferriday touched him on the arm. “We mustn't spoil her. There is a charm and meekness about her that we must not lose.”
Dyckman swallowed his other great's and after profound thought said, “Let's lunch somewhere.”
Ferriday excused himself, but said that the air would be good for Miss Adair. She was working too hard.
So she took the air.
Dyckman had come to the studio with Charity's business as an excuse. He had forgotten to give the excuse, and now he had forgotten the business. He did not know that he was now Kedzie Thropp's business. And she was minding her own business.