"If I were any more relaxed mentally or physically than I am at this minute, I would fall to pieces," she answered lazily. "Jane, I am really getting to like you very much," he said, his eyes upon her fine repose. "Is that luck, or a calamity, I wonder?" "Jane Judd, you ungrateful feline, come along to the sea. I may push you in for that remark." So it happened that because of their absolute isolation and dependence upon each other, they began to be acquainted. Only a few of the summer people had arrived, so they met no one on their walks. To Jane it was a time of great peace. She was doing her work now, when she merely kept herself in health. For the rest, life hung suspended, until October. Jerry was happy, a charming companion. As she wrote Christiansen: "Life is wonderful to me now. I am like the bee, garnering the very heart of summer days, flowers, and sunshine, to put into my work." Jerry began to paint her in the garden where she spent many hours at her sewing. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they were speechless. When she sat for a long time silent, and he spoke to her, she lifted eyes to him with an expression which he could not fathom. He knew, though, that it was something elemental, primal; that if he could catch it on his canvas, every man and woman who looked at the picture would get that thrill which it gave him--would know that they had glimpsed woman, the creator. "Jane," he said one day, "you're so comfortable." "Am I?" "I think that's why I married you." "So many men marry for that reason." "Jane, Jane, how you do prick my bubbles of conceit. They snap around me all the time." "It's quite unintentional," she smilingly protested. "So much the worse. Just how conceited do you think me, Jane?" "I've known one man _more_ conceited." "Jane, did I say you were comfortable?" "I don't want to be _too_ comfortable. That's dull, don't you think?" "Don't worry about being dull." She sewed for a while, and he painted. "You're getting very handsome," he remarked casually. "Why not? I'm well, and so content." "Are you contented, Jane?" "Like a cat in the sun. I have a saucer of cream three times a day, and a coloured ball to play with." "And only a puppy, named Jerry, to bother you?" "I don't mind him. I just stretch and yawn when he barks at me," she laughed. "I'll paint you with long slits in your eyes, if you don't look out," he threatened. One day Jane spoke of Bobs and her hope that she would come and stay with them. "Ask her by all means, but I doubt if she will come. She has it in for me." "She needs rest and normal living. She's all nerves on edge. She's done a big piece of work, enough to wear any one out." "She has lots of talent." "She has genius, Jerry." "I wouldn't go that far." "I would. Martin Christiansen says this 'Woman' group is a masterpiece. He ranked her with Manship and the best of the young sculptors." "What do you know about young sculptors?"