in the habit of having her own way about everything.
Naturally, under those circumstances,
I can't expect to get a satisfactory portrait,
if she's out of tune with the pose. Besides, I will
own, so far her suggestions have made for
improvement--probably because she's been happy
in making them, so her expression has been good.''

Billy wet her lips.

``I saw her the other night,'' she said lightly.
(If the lightness was a little artificial Bertram did
not seem to notice it.) ``She is certainly--very
beautiful.''

``Yes.'' Bertram got to his feet and began to
walk up and down the little room. His eyes were
alight. On his face the ``painting look'' was king.
``It's going to mean a lot to me--this picture,
Billy. In the first place I'm just at the point in
my career where a big success would mean a lot
--and where a big failure would mean more.
And this portrait is bound to be one or the other
from the very nature of the thing.''

``I-is it?'' Billy's voice was a little faint.

``Yes. First, because of who the sitter is, and
secondly because of what she is. She is, of course,
the most famous subject I've had, and half the