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Updated: May 8, 2025
Miss Vard started up as he entered, but caught herself together and dropped back into her chair. Vard, who had taken out a cigarette, held the tip tranquilly to his fusee. "You're here, thank God!" Cornley cried. "There's no time to be lost, Mr. Vard. I've got a carriage waiting round the corner in Thirteenth Street " Vard looked at the tip of his cigarette. "A carriage in Thirteenth Street?
My good fellow, my own brougham is at the door." "I know, I know but they're there too, sir; or they will be, inside of a minute. For God's sake, Mr. Vard, don't trifle! There's a way out by Thirteenth Street, I tell you" "Bardwell's myrmidons, eh?" said Vard. "Help me on with my overcoat, Cornley, will you?" Cornley's teeth chattered. "Mr.
Suddenly she straightened herself; there was something of Vard in the way she faced her fears a kind of primitive calm we drawing- room folk don't have. She stepped to him and laid her hand on his arm. The pause hadn't lasted ten seconds. "Father " she said. Vard threw back his head and swept the studio with a sovereign eye. "The back way, Mr. Vard, the back way," Cornley whimpered.
We were all surprisingly vivid it felt, somehow, as though we were being photographed by flash-light... It was the best sitting we'd ever had but unfortunately it didn't last more than ten minutes. It was Vard's secretary who interrupted us a slinking chap called Cornley, who burst in, as white as sweetbread, with the face of a depositor who hears his bank has stopped payment.
They measured each other an instant; then he drew her arm in his. She flung back one look at me a paean of victory and they passed out with Cornley at their heels. I wish I'd finished the face then; I believe I could have caught something of the look she had tried to make me see in him. Unluckily I was too excited to work that day or the next, and within the week the whole business came out.
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