"
Stanwell raised a protesting hand. "Really, for one order, you're a
little lurid!"
"One? Haven't you already had a dozen others?"
"Only one other, so far--and I'm not sure I shall do that."
"Not sure--wavering already! That's the way the mischief begins. If
the women get a fad for you they'll work you like a galley-slave.
You'll have to do your round of 'copy' every morning. What becomes
of inspiration then? How are you going to loaf and invite the soul?
Don't barter your birthright for a mess of pottage! Oh, I understand
the temptation--I know the taste of money and success. But look at
me, Stanwell. You know how long I had to wait for recognition. Well,
now it's come to me I don't mean to let it knock me off my feet. I
don't mean to let myself be overworked; I have already made it known
that I will not be bullied into taking more orders than I can do
full justice to. And my sister is with me, God bless her; Kate would
rather go on ironing my shirts in a garret than see me prostitute my
art!"
Kate's glance radiantly confirmed this declaration of independence,
and Stanwell, with his evasive laugh, asked her if, meanwhile, she
should object to his investing a part of his ill-gotten gains in
theatre tickets for the party that evening.
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