He went away chilled and baffled, and he had not come again.

She knew that he was painting with every nerve tense and eager, in oblivion to all but his work and the face that inspired it.

Elfrida, he told her, was to give him three sittings a week, of an hour each, and he complained of the scantiness of the dole.

She could conjure up those hours, all too short for his delight in his model and his work.

Surely it would not be long now! Elfrida cared, by her own confession--Janet felt, dully, there could now be no doubt of that--and since Elfrida cared, what could be more certain than the natural issue?
She fought with herself to accept it; she spent hours in seeking for the indifference that might come of accustoming herself to the fact.