“That’s it.”
“Why didn’t you tell her?”
“I preferred to keep it to myself.”
“Can you paint?”
“Not yet. But I shall. That’s why I’ve come over here. I couldn’t get what I wanted in London. Perhaps I can here.”
“Do you think it’s likely that a man will do any good when he starts at your age? Most men begin painting at eighteen.”
“I can learn quicker than I could when I was eighteen.”
“What makes you think you have any talent?”
He did not answer for a minute. His gaze rested on the passing throng, but I do not think he saw it. His answer was no answer.
“I’ve got to paint.”