But the beautiful surface of the older men held him.

How to combine the breadth of the new with the keeping, the sheer _pleasure_ of the old! He rushed home--aflame!--and fell to work again.
And now he found himself a little more able to cope with his sitter.
He was in possession, at any rate, of fresh topics--need not feel himself so tongue-tied in the presence of this cosmopolitan culture of hers, which she did her feminine best to disguise--which nevertheless made the atmosphere of her personality.

She had lived some six years in Paris, it appeared; and had known most of the chief artists and men of letters.

Fenwick writhed under his ignorance of the French language; it was a disadvantage not to be made up.
However, he talked much, and sometimes arrogantly; he gave his views, compared one man with another; if he felt any diffidence, he showed little.

And indeed she led him on.