I tell you I _must_."
And the woman answered very softly, with her hand upon his arm, "And you
shall--you shall."
* * * * *
Conrad Lagrange and Czar found the artist on the front porch, pulling
moodily at his pipe.
"Is it all over for to-day?" asked the novelist as he stood looking down
upon the young man with that peculiarly piercing, baffling gaze.
"All over," replied the artist, answering the greeting thrust of Czar's
muzzle against his knee, with caressing hand. "Where did you fly to?"
The other dropped into a chair. "I would fly anywhere to escape being
entertained by that Ragtime' piece of human nonentity--Louise Taine. I
saw them coming, just in time." He was filling his pipe as he spoke. "And
how did the work go?"
"All right," replied the painter, indifferently.
The older man shot a curious sidewise glance at his moody companion; then,
striking a match, he gave careful attention to his pipe. Watching the
cloud of blue smoke, he said quizzingly, "I suppose 'Her Majesty' was
royally apparelled for the occasion-properly arrayed in purple and fine
linen; as befits the dignity of her state?"
The artist turned at the mocking, suggestive tone and answered savagely,
"I suppose you have got to know, damn you! I'm painting her as a Quaker
Maiden.
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