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 silly. "But I must get to work," she added, and turned resolutely to her canvas. Miles took it as a dismissal.

"I suppose you will hardly finish it this morning?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No, it will take another day," she answered.

"Then perhaps I may be permitted to see it again—when it is further along?" he suggested.

"Certainly, if you would like to," she answered readily, calmly. He almost wished she wasn't quite so self-possessed. He didn't feel self-possessed, not the least in the world; and why should she?

"Thank you," he answered, "I should like to. Good-morning."

"Good-morning," she replied, and gave him the briefest sort of a perfunctory little smile, turning to her