CHAPTER XXIX.
When Hawker went again to the house of the great window he looked first at the colossal chandelier, and, perceiving that it had not moved, he smiled in a certain friendly and familiar way.
"It must be a fine thing," said the girl dreamily.

"I always feel envious of that sort of life." "What sort of life ?" "Why--I don't know exactly; but there must be a great deal of freedom about it.

I went to a studio tea once, and----" "A studio tea! Merciful heavens---- Go on." "Yes, a studio tea.

Don't you like them?
To be sure, we didn't know whether the man could paint very well, and I suppose you think it is an imposition for anyone who is not a great painter to give a tea." "Go on." "Well, he had the dearest little Japanese servants, and some of the cups came from Algiers, and some from Turkey, and some from---- What's the matter ?" "Go on.

I'm not interrupting you." "Well, that's all; excepting that everything was charming in colour, and I thought what a lazy, beautiful life the man must lead, lounging in such a studio, smoking monogrammed cigarettes, and remarking how badly all the other men painted." "Very fascinating.