"Damn it!" said Hawker to his coffee cup, which he had accidentally overturned.
"Well," resumed Pontiac, "she is a stunning model, and I think, Mr. Hawker, you are to be envied."
"Eh?" said Hawker.
"I wish I could inspire my models with such obedience and devotion. Then I would not be obliged to rail at them for being late, and have to badger them for not showing up at all. She has a beautiful figure—beautiful."
CHAPTER XXIX.
When Hawker went again to the house of the great window he looked first at the colossal chandelier, and, perceiving that it had not moved, he smiled in a certain friendly and familiar way.
"It must be a fine thing," said the girl dreamily. "I always feel envious of that sort of life."
"What sort of life?"
"Why—I don't know exactly; but there must be a great deal of freedom about it. I went to a studio tea once, and——"