But for him she might have been alive and happy. She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty. ‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. You can, too, if you wish. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. Eight per cent. She turned with an effort. She was not a Christian woman. That's part of the bargain. ‘Parbleu, how you make me talk!’ ‘Your secret is safe with me, I promise you,’ Gerald said reassuringly.
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