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Go and talk to him. Gethryn went to the junior study. Farnie was holding forth to a knot of fags at one end of the room. His audience appeared to be amused at something. 'I say, Farnie, said the Bishop, 'half a second.
Suddenly a man behind Gethryn sprang at his back, and then, amazed and terrified at his own daring, yelled lustily for help. Gethryn shook him off as he would a fly, but the last remnant of self-control went at the same time, and, wheeling, he planted a blow square in the fellow's neck. The man fell like an ox. In an instant the mob was upon them.
The girl settled herself into the pose, glanced at the clock, and then turning to Gethryn said, "And I am to look at you, am I not?" "Where could you find a more charming object?" murmured he, sorting his brushes. "Thank you," she pouted, stealing a glance at him; "than you?" "Except Mademoiselle Elise. There, now we begin!"
The head of a House cannot fight by-battles with his inferiors without the loss of a good deal of his painfully acquired dignity. But Gethryn knew Monk, and he had felt justified in risking it. He improved the shining hour with an excursus on the subject of bullying, dispensed a few general threats, and left the room.
What are you up to? 'Oh, shut up! said Farnie. 'Why shouldn't I come here if I like? Matter of fact, I came to see Gethryn. 'He isn't here, said Wilson luminously. 'You don't mean to say you've noticed that already? You've got an eye like a hawk, Wilson. I was just taking a look round, if you really want to know. 'Well, I shouldn't advise you to let Marriott catch you mucking his study up.
The girl glanced contentedly at her supple, clean-limbed figure, and then, with a laugh, jumped upon the model stand. "It's not time," said Gethryn, "you have five minutes yet." "Go on, all the same." And soon the rattle of the brushes alone broke the silence. At last Gethryn rose and backed off with a sigh. "How's that, Elise?" he called. She sprang down and stood looking over his shoulder.
It was deserted save by the lounging sentinels and one wretched child, who crouched against the gateway. "Fiche moi le camp! Allons! En route!" growled one of the sentinels, stamping his foot and shaking his fist at the bundle of rags. Gethryn walked toward him. "What's the matter with the little one?" he asked.
He was hard at work on a large canvas for the coming International Exhibition at Paris; he had sold a number of smaller studies, and besides had pictures well hung in Munich and in more than one gallery at home. At last, after ten years of hard work, struggles, and disappointments, he began to enjoy a measure of success. He and Gethryn saw little of each other this winter, excepting at Julien's.
"The right arm is a little strained, but it will be nothing, I assure you, Madame; a matter of a few days, that is all." He rose and stood brushing the knees of his trousers with his handkerchief. "Monsieur is a foreigner?" Gethryn smiled. "The accent?" "On the contrary, I assure you, Monsieur," cried the officer with more politeness than truth. He eyed the ambulance.
'Oh, that's all right, said Gethryn. 'Wilson. 'Yes? 'You mustn't listen. Try and think you're a piece of furniture. See? And if you do happen to overhear anything, you needn't go gassing about it. Follow? 'All right, said Wilson, and Gethryn told his tale. 'Jove, he said, as he finished, 'that's a relief. It's something to have got that off my chest. I do bar keeping a secret.
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