'I should have thought it was the surest way of losing him.'

'I can't think why you should be so rude. He observes progress
already.'

'With a view to claiming and holding him, would it be of any use,' I
asked, 'for me to start in oils?'

Miss Harris eyed me calmly.

'I don't know,' she said, 'but it doesn't seem the same thing
somehow. I think you had better leave it to me.'

'Indeed, I won't,' I said; 'there is too much in it,' and we smiled
across the gulf of our friendly understanding.

I crossed to the mantelpiece and picked up one of the little wet
panels. There was that in it which explained my friend's exultation
much more plainly than words.

'That is what I am to show him tomorrow,' she exclaimed; 'I think I
have done as he told me. I think it's pretty right.'

Whether it was pretty right or pretty wrong, she had taken in an
extraordinary way an essence out of him. It wasn't of course good,
but his feeling was reflected in it, at once so brilliantly and so
profoundly that it was startling to see.

'Do you think he'll be pleased?' she asked, anxiously.