So Claude yielded, Odette yielded, and the result was, that one pleasant afternoon in April, they were sitting alone in the studio. It was quite warm in the room. On a table near by, some pastilles were burning to perfume the smoke-laden air. Buried in an arm-chair, her head posed according to directions, Odette lay lost in thought, her eye gazing at vacancy. Around her the thousand and one curious objects to be found in all studios--here a pile of armor glistening in the sun, there some drapery thrown carelessly over an easel; every where frames and pictures of all shapes and sizes. She was posing in a low-necked dress to show her throat fully; around her neck a heavy pearl necklace--Danae's pearls, her first temptation. They had not spoken for more than two hours. At first Odette had taken a large Spanish knife in her hand, playing with it to hide her nervousness somewhat; but it dropped from her fingers, and she sat quiet, staring at vacancy, trying to control her wildly beating heart. She would rather die than let him see the intense agitation this tête-à-tête was causing her. Claude commenced to paint with great energy; but the sweet intoxication of her presence gradually mounted to his brain. He had just completed the face, when the necklace slipped on her neck. He rose, and, speaking for the first time in two hours, said: "If you will allow me, I will--" As he approached, she looked at him. Did he see the love in her eyes? or, was he conquered by his own passion? His fingers had just touched the necklace, when he seized her passionately in his arms, and, kissing her bare white throat, he murmured: "I love you." At one bound she was on her feet. She escaped from his arms, haggard and trembling. She extended her hand to protect herself, and the large knife she still held struck his cheek, making a slight wound which began to bleed. Then Odette, with a cry of horror, fled from the room.