er.

"Really, I think he's had enough," she said, settling herself in the
high-backed chair.

After a little argument:

"All you've got to remember," I said, "is that you're awfully sorry
you're so late, and that the truth is you forgot all about the sitting,
and that, by the way, when you got here, you met a man going out, and
that you don't know who he was, but you suppose it was alright. Only
you thought Mr. Larel ought to know."

"I've never met anyone like you before."

"My dear, you never will. I am unique. And remember you've taken
rather a fancy---- Here he is. Yes, queens always have their hands
kissed. All real queens..."

I seized my hat, stick, and gloves, and faded behind the curtains. She
was really wonderful. "Mr. Larel, will you ever forgive me? I'm most
awfully sorry. D'you know I quite forgot. I suppose you'd given me
up? And now it's too late. Oh, yes. I only came to apologize. I
can't think--"

George couldn't get a word in edgeways. I watched him through the
crack of the curtains. His face was a study. Of course, he was
mentally cursing himself for sending the wire so precipitately, and
wondering how the deuce he could explain its arrival without revealing
the true state of affairs. Apparently in the end he decided for the
moment, at any rate, to say nothing about it, for, as soon as she let
him speak, he assured her it didn't matter at all, and passed, somewhat
uneasily, direct to the weather.

"By the way," said Margery suddenly, "there was a man here when I came.
I suppose it was all right."

George started. "You mean him?" he said, pointing to my portrait.

"That?" cried Margery. "The man you're painting? Oh, no. It wasn't
him. At least," she added, leaning forward and looking carefully at
the picture, "I don't think so."

"But it must have been," cried George. "He was here five minutes ago,
and no other man--it must have been him."

"But the one I saw was clean-shaven," said Margery.

George pointed to my portrait with a shaking finger. "Isn't that one
clean-shaven?" he wailed.

"So it is," said Margery. "For the moment, the shadow--"

"I'll never paint again!" said George fiercely. "They've hung over
each other's portraits for a week--" "Oh!" cried Margery. "And the
first time they see one another, they don't know one another from Adam."

"Did you find the post office all right?" said I. Then I came out.

"One thing," said Margery. "Did the