"And you?"
"Oh, I'm in the north,--the black north, across all the Park. I am very busy."
"What do you do?"
"I paint a great deal. That's all I have to do."
"Why, what's happened? You had three hundred a year."
"I have that still. I am painting; that's all."
"Are you alone, then?"
"There's a girl living with me. Don't walk so fast, Dick; you're out of step."
"Then you noticed it too?"
"Of course I did. You're always out of step."
"So I am. I'm sorry. You went on with the painting?"
"Of course. I said I should. I was at the Slade, then at Merton"s in St. John's
Wood, the big studio, then I pepper-potted,--I mean I went to the National,--
and now I'm working under Kami."
"But Kami is in Paris surely?"
"No; he has his teaching studio in Vitry-sur-Marne. I work with him in the
summer, and I live in London in the winter. I'm a householder."
"Do you sell much?"
"Now and again, but not often. There is my 'bus. I must take it or lose half an
hour. Goodbye, Dick."
"Goodbye, Maisie. Won't you tell me where you live? I must see you again; and
perhaps I could help you. I--I paint a little myself."
"I may be in the Park tomorrow, if there is no working light. I walk from the
Marble Arch down and back again; that is my little excursion.
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