modes of expression--sentimental, explosive,
insinuating--the entire gamut.

She had remained, however, untouched; curious and amused, perhaps, yet
quite satisfied, so far, to be amused; and entirely content with her own
curiosity.

She coquetted when she thought it safe; learned many things she had
not suspected; was more cautious afterwards, but still, at intervals,
ventured to use her attractiveness as a natural lure, as an excuse, as
a reason, as a weapon, when the probable consequences threatened no
embarrassment or unpleasantness for her.

She was much liked, much admired, much attempted, and entirely
untempted.

When the Make-up Club gave its annual play depicting the foibles of
artists and writers in the public eye, Cecile White was always cast for
a role which included singing and dancing.

On and off for the last year or two she had posed for Drene, had
dropped into his studio to lounge about when he had no need of her
professionally, and when she had half an hour of idleness confronting
her.

As she stood there now on the model stand, gazing dreamily from his busy
hands to his lean, intent features, it occurred to her that this day
had not been a sample of their usual humdrum relations. From the
very beginning of their business relations he had remained merely her
employer, self-centered, darkly absorbed in his work, or, when not
working, bored and often yawning. She had never come to know him any
better than when she first laid eyes on him.

Always she had been a little interested in him, a little afraid,
sometimes venturing an innocent audacity, out of sheer curiosity
concerning the effect on him. But never had she succeeded in stirring
him to any expression of personal feeling in regard to herself, one way
or the other.

Probably he had no personal feeling concerning her. It seemed odd to
her; model and master thrown alone together, day after day, usually
became friends in some degree. But there had been nothing at all of
camaraderie in their relationship, only a colorless, professional
sans-gene, the informality of intimacy without the kindly essence of
personal interest on his part.

He paid her wages promptly; said good morning when she came, and
good night when she went; answered her questions when she asked them
seriously; relapsed into indifference or into a lazy and not too civil
badinage when she provoked him to it; and that was all.

He never complimented her, never praised her; yet