The mere vulgar tools of
your craft are of minor importance to one of your genius and opportunity."
Then, in a half embarrassed manner, Aaron King made his announcement.
"That may all be," he said, "but just the same, I am going to work."
"I knew it"--returned the other, in mocking triumph--"I knew it the moment
you came up the steps there. I could tell it by your walk; by the air with
which you carried yourself; by your manner, your voice, your laugh--you
fairly reek of prosperity and achievement--you are going to paint her
portrait."
"And why not?" retorted the young man, rather sharply, a trifle nettled by
the other's tone.
"Why not, indeed!" murmured the novelist. "Indeed, yes--by all means! It
is so exactly the right thing to do that it is startling. You scale the
heights of fame with such confident certainty in every move that it is
positively uncanny to watch you."
"If one's work is true, I fail to see why one should not take advantage
of any influence that can contribute to his success," said the painter. "I
assure you I am not so wealthy that I can afford to refuse such an
attractive commission. You must admit that the beautiful Mrs. Taine is a
subject worthy the brush of any artist; and I suppose it _is_ conceivable
that I _might_ be ambitious to make a genuinely good job of it.
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