e is my friend. She knows I do not care to be alone."

CHAPTER VI

When Olive came to the _atelier_ on the following morning Camille was
not there, but the door was open and he had left a note on the table
for her.

"I have had a letter from the Duchess. She is leaving
Rome to-day but she wants to see me before she goes. It
must be about her daughter's portrait. I must go to her
hotel, but I shall drive both ways and be back in half
an hour. Wait for me.--C. M."

Olive took off her hat and coat as usual behind the screen. She was
choosing a book from the tattered row of old favourites on the shelf
when she heard a step outside. She listened, thinking that it was
Camille, and fearing that the commission had not been given him. It
was not like him to be so silent.

"I thought you would be singing--" she stopped short.

Filippo came on into the room.

"M'sieur Michelin is out," she said.

"So the porter told me. You do not think I want to see him. Will you
come with me to Albano to-day?"

She shook her head.

"To-morrow, then. Why not?"

"I have my work."

"Your work! I see you believe you can do without me now. How long do
you think you will be able to earn money in this way? All these men
will be leaving Rome soon. The schools will be closed until next
October. You will have to choose between the devil and the deep sea--"

"What is the good of talking about it?" she said wearily. "I know I
have nothing to look forward to. I know that. Please go away."

"Do you know that you have cost me more than any other woman I have
ever met? You injured me; will you make no amends?"

She laughed. "So you are the victim."

"Yes," he said passionately, "I told you before that I suffered, and
you believed me then. Is it my fault that I am made like this? Since
that night in Florence when I held you in my arms I have had no
peace."

"You behaved very badly. I can't think why I let myself be sorry for
you."

"Badly! Some men would, but I loved you even then."

She looked wistfully towards the door. "I wish you would go. There are
so many other women."

"I love you, I want you," he answered, and he caught her in his arms
and held her in spite of her struggles. "I have you!" He forced her
head down upon his breast and kissed her mouth. She thought the
hateful pressure of his lips, the hateful fire of his eyes would kill
her, and when, at last, she wrenched herself away she screamed wit