"I looked for you this morning before I went up to paint," I said; "but couldn't find you."
"I am so sorry," she answered with a quick smile. "What did you want me for?"
"To tell you you needn't worry about Veronica. She is absolutely nothing to me."
"Then, if she is, why will you not send her away, or at least when the
'Bacchante' is finished?"
"Because I don't see any necessity," I answered. "Besides, if I get any other model you would feel the same, wouldn't you, about her?"
"Any model you kissed and desired. Yes, certainly."
We were both standing now facing each other. Viola was deadly pale, as she always became in any conflict with me.
I stood silent for a moment.
I could not understand how she knew and could speak so definitely, but
I could not lie and deny it, so I said nothing.
"Do you mean that I am never to kiss another woman as long as I live?"
I asked, a shade of derision coming into my voice.