Can you do it?"
"Yes. I--I--must," returned the woman. She spoke to the girl, who, being a
little in advance, had not heard the novelist's words, "Sibyl, dear, will
you go on home, please? Mr, Lagrange will stay with me. I--I will join you
presently."
At a look from Conrad Lagrange, the girl obeyed.
"Go with Sibyl, Czar," said the novelist; and the girl and the dog went
quickly away through the garden.
In the studio, Aaron King gazed at the angry woman in amazement. "Mrs.
Taine," he said, with quiet dignity, "I must tell you that I hope to make
Miss Andres my wife."
She laughed harshly. "And what has that to do with it?"
"I thought that if you knew, it might help you to understand the
situation," he answered simply.
"I understand the situation, very well," she retorted, "but you do not
appear to. The situation is this: I--I was interested in you--as an
artist. I, because my position in the world enabled me to help you,
commissioned you to paint my portrait. You are unknown, with no name, no
place in the world. I could have given you success. I could have
introduced you to the people that you must know if you are to succeed. My
influence would insure you a favorable reception from those who make the
reputations of men like you.
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