But why do you go on painting badly ?" "I can do nothing else; I have no real talent." "You are deceiving your father, then." The young girl hesitated a moment.

"He knows very well!" "No," Newman declared; "I am sure he believes in you." "He is afraid of me.

I go on painting badly, as you say, because I want to learn.

I like it, at any rate.

And I like being here; it is a place to come to, every day; it is better than sitting in a little dark, damp room, on a court, or selling buttons and whalebones over a counter." "Of course it is much more amusing," said Newman.