That's what part of my 'thorough talk' is to be about; your carelessness in noticing me except professionally." He continued working, rapidly now; and it seemed to her as though something--a hint of the sombre--had come into his face--nothing definite--but the smile was no longer there, and the brows were slightly knitted.
Later he glanced up impatiently at the sky: the summer clouds wore a deeper rose and gold.
"We'd better have our foolish tea," he said, abruptly, driving his brushes into a bowl of black soap and laying aside his palette for his servant to clean later.
For a while, not noticing her, he fussed about his canvas, using a knife here, a rag there, passing to and fro across the scaffolding, oblivious of the flight of time, until at length the waning light began to prophesy dusk, and he came to himself with a guilty start.
Below, in the studio, Valerie sat, fully dressed except for hat and gloves, head resting in the padded depths of an armchair, watching him in silence.
"I declare," he said, looking down at her contritely, "I never meant to keep you all this time.

Good Lord! Have I been puttering up here for an hour and a half! It's nearly eight o'clock! Why on earth didn't you speak to me, Valerie ?" "It's a braver girl than I am who'll venture to interrupt you at work, Kelly," she said, laughingly.

"I'm a little afraid of you." "Nonsense! I wasn't doing anything.

My Heaven!--_can_ it be eight o'clock ?" "It is....

You _said_ we were going to have tea." "Tea! Child, you can't have tea at eight o'clock! I'm terribly sorry"-- he came down the ladder, vexed with himself, wiping the paint from his hands with a bunch of cheese cloth--"I'm humiliated and ashamed, Miss West.