Said Miss Ingate with a comprehending satiric grin:

"I see what you mean. I quite see. I quite see. You're right, Miss
Thompkins. I'm sure you're right."

Audrey decided she would have to be very clever in order to be equal to
Tommy's subtlety. Nick, on the other hand, was not a bit subtle, except
when she tried to imitate Tommy. Nick was kindness, and sympathy, and
vagueness. You could see these admirable qualities in every curve of her
face and gleam of her eyes. She was very sympathetic, but somewhat shocked
when Audrey blurted out that she had not come to Paris in order to paint.

"There are at least fifty painters in this café this very minute," said
Tommy. And somehow it was just as if she had said: "If you haven't come to
Paris to paint, what have you come for?"

"Does Mr. Musa paint, too?" asked Audrey.

"Oh _no_!" Both his protectresses answered together, pained. Tommy added:
"Musa plays the violin--of course."

And Musa blushed. Later, he murmured to Audrey across the table, while
Tommy was ordering a salad, that there were tennis courts in the Luxembourg
gardens.

"I used to paint," Miss Ingate broke out. "And I'm beginning to think I
should like to paint again."

Said Nick, enraptured: