For the first time since he had seen the portrait he looked away from it, and his eyes rested on her. She felt that she trembled under those eyes, and hoped that he did not see it. “You do not say! Surely this is a very fine picture?” He seemed to be asking her to tell him whether or not the portrait ought to be admired. There was just then an odd simplicity, or pretence of simplicity, in his manner which was almost boyish. And his eyes seemed to be appealing to her. “It is a magnificent piece of painting,” she forced herself to say. But she said it coldly, reluctantly. “Then I am not wrong.” He looked pleased. “My eye is not very educated. I fear to express my opinion before people such as you”--he looked towards Garstin, and added--“and you, Dick Garstin.” And then he turned away from the picture with the manner of a man who had done with it. She was amazed at his coolness, his perfect ease of manner. “May I ask for a cigar, Dick Garstin?” he said. “Pardon!” said Garstin gruffly. Miss Van Tuyn noticed that he seemed very ill at ease. His rough self-possession had deserted him. He looked almost shy and awkward. Before going to the cabinet he went to the easel and noisily wheeled it away. Then he fetched the cigar and poured out a drink for Arabian. “Light up, old chap! Have a drink!” There was surely reluctant admiration in his voice. Arabian accepted the drink, lit the cigar, sat down, and began to talk about his flat. At that moment he dominated them both. Miss Van Tuyn felt it. He talked much more than she had ever before heard him talk in the studio, and expressed himself better, with more fluency than usual. Garstin said very little. There was a fixed flush on his cheek-bones and an angry light in his eyes. He sat watching Arabian with a hostile, and yet half-admiring, scrutiny, smoking rapidly, nervously, and twisting his large hands about. Presently Miss Van Tuyn got up to go. “Going already?” said Garstin. “Yes, I must.” “Oh, well--” “I will accompany you,” said Arabian. She looked away from him and said nothing. Garstin went with them downstairs and opened the door. “Bye-bye!” he said in a loud voice. “See you again soon. Good luck to you!” Arabian held out his hand. “Good-bye.” Miss Van Tuyn nodded without speaking. Garstin shut the door noisily. They walked down Glebe Place in silence. When they got to the corner Arabian said: “Are you in a hurry to-day?” “No, not specially.” “Shall we take a little walk? It is not very late.” “A walk? Where to?” “Shall we go along by the river?” She hesitated. She was torn by conflicting feelings. She was very angry with Garstin. She still continued to say, though now to herself, “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” And yet she knew that Garstin’s portrait had greatly increased her strange fear of Arabian. “This way will take us to the river.”