cunning. And besides, if they suit my taste?"
"It's certainly changed since yesterday."
"Isn't it allowable to change one's taste?"
"No, not when one's a friend."
"Luce, do my portrait!"
"Well, well, now; his portrait!"
"Why, it's very serious. I'm as good as those idiots . . ."
She squeezed his arm in an unthinking burst:
"What was that you said?"
"I didn't say anything."
"I heard you all right."
"Well then, keep it for yourself!"
"No, I shan't keep it. I'll give it back to you double. . . . Darling! . . . Darling! You'll do my portrait, won't you? It's settled?"
"Have you a photo?"
"No, I have not."
"Then what do you expect? I can't paint you in the street, I suppose."