Though he had warned her against giving, he had not been slow to take.

He had revelled in the abandonment of that first free love of hers.

He had drained her of all that she held most precious that he might drink his fill.

And all for what?
Again she burned from head to foot, and, groaning, hid her face.

All for the making of a picture that should bring him world-wide fame! His love for her had been naught but small change flung liberally enough that he might purchase therewith the desire of his artist's soul.