‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. Her hand grasped it firmly, and she pushed herself forward. "I didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but I thought it right to make you the offer. “The adventures I do not doubt, Annabel,” she said. . " "And you my warning," retorted Wild.
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