‘Go and fetch her home,’ he said; ‘it isn’t what we thought! It’s just a practical joke of hers. ” “What ball?” The question was rhetorical. ‘Is it such a terrible prospect? I will take care of you—as long as you obey me. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. As if God would not continue to mock him so long as his brain held a human thought! God had given him a pearl without price, and he had misunderstood until this day. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest.
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