heads where the eraser had been used, and laughed. "I look jittery, as if I keep moving all the time. Aren't you going to draw my face too?" It was a funny picture, as if he couldn't make up his mind.
Clem gulped the coffee and burnt his tongue. It annoyed him when models made comments. "I think we'll stop for today, it's almost four thirty," he said. Perhaps if he worked an hour by himself he'd get the feel better.
When she was ready to leave he handed her a dollar and a half. "It's only tour thirty so I owe you twenty-five cents' change," die said. She only had a nickel.
He laughed. "Let it go, you can make it up sometime. When can you come again?"
"Any time, any time at all."
"Monday, same time?"
Monday was three days away. Saturday, Sunday, Monday. Tomorrow, Saturday, she would find out if there was a dancing school in Congress.
Funny, he didn't try to kiss her when she left. Everyone else did when they gave you something. A whole dollar and a half!
Alone, Clem reheated the coffee. Sharing a studio was an awkward arrangement. It would be ideal if he could have living quarters here. An artist should live in his studio. He telephoned his mother he was having supper at the Bohemian Cellar.
Chapter 8
"A FINE OUTFIT FOR A SCHOOLGIRL"
School began ten days after Lucy began posing for Clem Brush. Vida had seen little of Lucy, for posing had become a daily routine. At last, thought Vida happily, she will have to stop going to that place, not knowing Lucy had promised to pose after school.
Though warm for September, on this first day of school Lucy and Vida were dressed in new winter woolens to begin their last year in grammar school. Vida's long-sleeved plaid, with its Peter Pan collar. >was a little scratchy, but only two inches shorter than Lucy's skirt and had a wide hem to let down in case it shrank. She had a
