ast a clue was his. "I
have told you that it will be my masterpiece." He had offered an
identical assurance to many a hesitant amateur.

"Is your model for _The Circassian_ really very pretty?"

"She is; but of a more ordinary type than you, kid. You are simply a
nymph in human shape. You will send the critics crazy."

He watched her with scarcely veiled eagerness, and Flamby, placing the
end of her cigarette in a silver ash-tray, seemed to be thinking.

"Is she--well-known?"

James recognised familiar symptoms and his hopes leapt high. "If I show
you the canvas and you recognise the model will you promise not to tell
anybody? I am painting it by a new process. I got the idea from Wiertz.
The violet gauze of the veil is only indicated yet."

Flamby nodded, watching him wide-eyed. Her expression was inscrutable.
He crossed the big studio and wheeled an easel out from the recess in
which it had been concealed. The canvas was draped and having set it in
a good light he turned, taking a step forward. "No telling," he said.

"No," replied Flamby, rising from her extemporised _diwan_.

James towered over her slight figure vastly. "Give me a kiss and I will
believe you," he said.

Flamby felt a tingling sensation and knew that a flush was rising from
her neck to her brow, but with success in view she was loth to abandon
her scheme. "Show me first," she said.

"Oh, no. Be a sport, kid. You might do me no end of harm if you blabbed.
Give me a kiss and I shall know we are pals." He placed his hand on
Flamby's shoulder and she tried not to shrink. The rich colour fled from
her cheeks and her oval face assumed that even, dusky hue which was a
danger signal, but which Orlando James failed to recognise for one.

"I don't want to kiss you; I want to see the picture."

"And I don't want you to see the picture until you have kissed me,"
replied James, smiling confidently and clasping his arm around Flamby's
shoulders. "Only one tiny kiss and I shall know I can trust you."

He drew her close, and Flamby experienced a thrill of terror because of
the strength of his arm and her own helplessness. But she averted her
face and thrust one hand against James's breast, fighting hard to
retain composure. He bent over her and thereupon Flamby knew that the
truce must end. Her heart began to throb wildly.

"I won't kiss you!" she cried. "Let me go!"

Orlando James looked into her face, now flushed again and found the lure
of Flamby