"I grant there are one or two rotten ones," conceded Sadler; "but they're interesting, if you take them in the right way--experiments that failed, though they were fine as he had them in him. Well--then I did a bit of a tour all over the shop--came along through Holland--made cart-loads of sketches; and then I came right along here. Been getting lots of fun in London; been round with the boys, and had a rattling good time. Taking the opportunity, too, of getting some nice suits of clothes." And here Sadler turned abruptly from art, and plunged into sartorial details. His interest in such matters was astonishing, almost touching. He revelled in fancy waistcoats and rioted in tweeds and broadcloths. London was the only place in the world where you could get the rakish cut. He, Sadler, had never suspected what a lovely figure he had, till this latest cutter had revealed him to himself! He paused at last for breath. "Anything particular on with you?" he was presently impelled to ask, observing that Wyndham was exercising a marked fastidiousness in the choice of his canvas. "A portrait," said Wyndham. "Not a bad little commission." "Good!" ejaculated Sadler, his face shining enthusiastically. "A lady?" "Yes," answered Wyndham, "and I've rather a charming scheme." "Good!" roared Sadler again. "I heard you hadn't been doing much of late. They were running your work down--some of the boys, and I said they were talking rot. We nearly came to blows about it. I think I fairly shut them up." Wyndham had at first winced a little. Then he felt like shrugging his shoulders. After all, the past had to be lived down. Besides, Sadler's championship was genuine and influential. "That was very kind of you. You always did stick up for me." "Don't you mind 'em a bit, my boy. You just go ahead, and you'll come out at the top of the tree." "I'll do my best," said Wyndham, smiling. "That'll be good enough, I guess," said Sadler. "Perhaps this portrait will open up other things for you." "How so?" inquired Wyndham. "It all depends on the crowd you strike--I heard you came a bit of a cropper, and I daresay you're not too well off now to despise a job or two--you can always put decent work into them. Now there's Jim Harley--he struck a rich middle-class lot ten years ago, rotten out-and-out Philistines, twenty guineas apiece--and they've been keeping him going ever since. Does fifty of 'em a year." "The prospect hardly tempts me. After all, the main thing is to get back to big work." Sadler smiled. "I guess I should be the first to drag you back again--after a while. But Jimmy married young. A boy and girl affair. His wife's family weren't satisfied with his financial position, and there was a mighty row at the time. Of course the girl had only her pretty eyes." "Ah, you don't approve of idealistic love affairs." "Not of that kind. I'm forty, and I've seen something in my time."