IX
Next day she sat to him after lunch until it grew dark; in the rests, they exchanged some insignificant words while he went on painting the background or washed his brushes.
“There,” he said, putting down the palette and tidying up his paint-box. “That will do for today.”
She came to look at the picture.
“The black is good, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” she said. “I think it is very effective.”
He looked at his watch:
“It is almost time to go out and get something to eat—shall we dine together?”
“All right. Will you wait for me while I put on my things?”