"Oh," he said, carelessly, "let her wait! I'm mobbed with these
people."

After another quarter-hour he condescended to go down and greet her
shivering ladyship.

* * * * *

A little later during this visit a foreign artist called and was
pleasantly received. Admiring a small painting, the visitor said:

"Now, that is one of your good ones."

"Don't look at it, dear boy," replied Whistler, airily; "it's not
finished."

"Finished!" said the visitor. "Why, it's the most carefully finished
picture of yours I've seen."

"Don't look at it," insisted Whistler. "You are doing an injustice to
yourself, you are doing an injustice to the picture, and you're doing
an injustice to me!"

Then, theatrically:

"Stop! I'll finish it now." With that he picked a very small brush,
anointed, its delicate point with paint, and touched the picture in
one spot with a speck of pigment.