woman. "What is talent but a combination of the desire to do and the
power to accomplish? As for genius, it is never selfish when it is at
work."

"Is that reflection your own?"

"I think so," answered Orsino modestly. He was secretly pleased that a
man of the artist's experience and reputation should be struck by his
remark.

"I do not think I agree with you," said Gouache.

Orsino's expression changed a little. He was disappointed, but he said
nothing.

"I think that a great genius is often ruthless. Do you remember how
Beethoven congratulated a young composer after the first performance of
his opera? 'I like your opera--I will write music to it.' That was a
fine instance of unselfishness, was it not. I can see the young man's
face--" Anastase smiled.

"Beethoven was not at work when he made the remark," observed Orsino,
defending himself.

"Nor am I," said Gouache, taking up his brushes again. "If you will
resume the pose--so--thoughtful but bold--imagine that you are already
an ancestor contemplating posterity from the height of a nobler age--you
understand. Try and look as if you were already framed and hanging in
the Saracinesca gallery between a Titian and a Giorgione."