"
The other laughed meaningly; "Yes, oh yes--a great little work-shop. I
suppose you--ah--do not fear to trust your _art treasures_ to the
Chinaman, during your absence?"
Conrad Lagrange--certain, now, that the man had seen Sibyl Andres either
entering or leaving the studio--said abruptly, "You need give yourself no
concern for Mr. King's studio, Rutlidge. I can assure you that the
treasures there will be well protected."
James Rutlidge understood the warning conveyed in the novelist's words
that, to Aaron King, revealed nothing.
"Really," said the painter to their caller, "you are not uneasy for the
safety of Mrs. Taine's portrait, are you, old man? If you are, of
course--"
"Damn Mrs. Taine's portrait!" ejaculated the man, rising hurriedly. "You
know what I mean. It's all right, of course. I must be going. Hope you
have a good outing and come back to find all your art treasures safe." He
laughed coarsely, as he went down the walk.
When the automobile was gone, the artist turned to his friend. "Now what
in thunder did he mean by that? What's the matter with him? Do you suppose
they imagine that there is anything wrong because I wouldn't turn over the
picture?"
"He is an unclean beast, Aaron," the novelist answered shortly.
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