as if they were jewelry. Work is only a new species of ornament. They aren't great enough to lose themselves in it.
"Only I should like one wee bit of encouragement! The master never stopped at my easel, as he always does in books, to say, 'You have a touch. There is a future before you.' I've got nothing to depend on but my belief in myself."
"It is all very wonderful to me," said Mrs. Kent, rising to go. "How can you interpret people's faces in that way without having had their experience?"
"I don't know. I have an idea that you can interpret other people's lives better if your own isn't too much tangled up. Lack of life is life's best interpreter."
There was a knock at the door. The janitor had brought Miss Bradford a card. She stood for a minute, turning it over in paint-stained fingers.
"Say that I will come down directly."
Then she went back to her canvas and spoiled the thumb.
Five minutes later Anne walked down-
