"An impromptu bit of acting," confessed the abashed Julien.

"And this attic? Was that hired for the same comedy?"

"No. This is mine, really."

"I don't understand. Why have you done it all?"

"If you want to know the truth," he said defiantly, "so that I could
keep on seeing you."

"That's a very poor excuse," she retorted.

"The best in the world. As a successful commercial artist, what possible
interest would you have taken in me? You took me for a struggling young
painter--that was the Bonnie Lassie's fault, for I never lied to you
about it--and after we'd started on that track I didn't--well, I didn't
have the courage to risk losing you by quitting the masquerade."

"How you must have laughed at me all the time!"

He flushed to his angry eyes. "Do you think that is fair?" he retorted.
"Or kind? Or true?"

"I--I don't know," she faltered. "You let me offer you money. And you've
probably got as much as I have."

"I won't have from now on, then. I'm going to paint. I thought, when you
told me you were going away, that I couldn't look at a canvas again. But