shoulder--Omphale, you know--in a modern drawing-room--a small cast of
the Farnese Hercules upon a bracket, there, on the right. Decidedly,
here is an idea. Do you permit, Madame!"

"Anything you like--only do not spoil the likeness," answered Madame
d'Aragona, leaning back in her chair, and looking sleepily at Orsino
from beneath her heavy, half-closed lids.

"You will spoil the whole picture," said Orsino, rather anxiously.

Gouache laughed.

"What harm if I do? I can restore it in five minutes--"

"Five minutes!"

"An hour, if you insist upon accuracy of statement," replied Gouache
with a shade of annoyance.

He had an idea, and like most people whom fate occasionally favours with
that rare commodity he did not like to be disturbed in the realisation
of it. He was already squeezing out quantities of tawny colours upon his
palette.

"I am a passive instrument," said Madame d'Aragona. "He does what he
pleases. These men of genius--what would you have? Yesterday a gown from
Worth--to-day a tiger's skin--indeed, I tremble for to-morrow."

She laughed a little and turned her head away.