Without otherwise moving, he put his arm about her.
"What is it, Clifford? Tell me, and be quick."
"It's soon told, Mad. My step-father informs me that he will continue the usual allowance until my twenty-sixth birthday—eighteenth of February next, you know—and no longer than that. After then, I must look out for myself."
Madeline knit her brows.
"What's the reason?" she asked, after a pause,
"The old trouble. He says I've had quite long enough to make my way as an artist, if I'm going to make it at all. In his opinion, I am simply wasting my time and his money. No cash results ; that is to say, no success. Of course, his view."
The girl kept silence. Marsh shifted his position slightly, so as to get a view of her face.
"Somebody else's too, I'm half afraid," he murmured dubiously.
