that Dick knew well. 'Some reproduction of my work inside,' he said, with suppressed triumph. Never before had success tasted so sweet upon the tongue. 'You see the sort of things I paint, D'you like it?'
Maisie looked at the wild whirling rush of a field-battery going into action under fire. Two artillery-men stood behind her in the crowd.
'They've chucked the off lead-'orse,' said one to the other. ' 'E's tore up awful, but they're makin' good time with the others. That lead-driver drives better nor you, Tom. See 'ow cunnin' 'e's nursin' 'is 'orse.'
'Number Three'll be off the limber, next jolt,' was the answer.
'No, 'e won't. See 'ow 'is foot's braced against the iron? 'E's all right.'
Dick watched Maisie's face and swelled with joy, —fine, rank, vulgar triumph. She was more interested in the little crowd than in the picture. That was something that she could understand.
'And I wanted it so! Oh, I did want it so!' she said at last, under her breath.
'Me,—all me!' said Dick placidly. 'Look at their faces. It hits 'em. They don't know what makes their eyes and mouths open; but I know, And I know my work's right.'
