A loud, business-like bang brought, out this comment:
"Psst! That's one and ten."
Later came another, not quite so vehement.
"Two and six," said Whistler. "Psst!"
"What on earth do you mean?" asked Chase.
"One pound ten shillings; two pounds six shillings! Vulgar tradesmen with their bills, Colonel. They want payment. Oh, well!"
A gentle knock soon followed.
"Dear me," said Whistler, "that must be all of twenty! Poor fellow! I really must do something for him. So sorry I'm not in."
* * * * *
Riding one day in a hansom with Mr. Chase, Whistler's eye caught the fruit and vegetable display in a greengrocer's shop. Making the cabby maneuver the vehicle to various viewpoints, he finally observed: "Isn't it beautiful? I believe I'll have that crate of oranges moved over there—against that background of green. Yes, that's better!" And he settled back contentedly!