“Miss Carfax?”
Eve did not offer to explain her presence. She supposed that Gertrude Canterton knew all about her husband’s book, and the illustrations that were needed.
“You are making a study of flowers?”
“Yes.”
“That’s right. I hope you will find plenty of material here.”
“Mr. Canterton was kind enough to let me come in and see what I could do.”
“Exactly. May I see?”
She minced round behind Eve, and looked over the girl’s shoulder at the sketch she had on her lap.
“That’s quite nice—quite nice! But what a lot of colour you have put into it.”
“There is rather a lot of colour in the garden itself.”