who overheard a priest talking nonsense, and did not quite
understand. I am going away to-night."

"Then I shall not see you again,... and you said I was a good
model."

Her meaning was clear to him. He remembered how he had stood in
the midst of his sculpture asking himself what a man is to do when
a girl, walking with a walk at once idle and rhythmical, stops
suddenly and puts her hand on his shoulder and looks up in his
face. He had sworn he would not kiss her again and he had broken
his oath, but the desire of her as a model had overborne every
other desire. Now he was going away for ever, and his heart told
him that she was as sweet a thing as he would find all the world
over. But if he took her with him he would have to look after her
till the end of his life. This was not his vocation. His
hesitation endured but a moment, if he hesitated at all.

"You'd like to go away with me, but what should I do with you. I'm
thirty-five and you're sixteen." He could see that the difference
of age did not strike her--she was not looking into the remote
future.

"I don't think, Lucy, your destiny is to watch me making statues.
Your destiny is a gayer one than that. You want to play the piano,
don't you?"

"I should have to go to Germany to study, and I have no money.
Well," she said, "I must go back now. I just came to tell you who
had wrecked your studio. Good-bye. It has all been an unlucky