"But surely one has always something in one's mind," he said. "One can't help that, so why not say it? A penny for your thoughts now." Madge laughed. "No, they are worth far more. In fact, they are not in the market," she said. Evelyn grew portentously grave. "Mrs. Gummidge," he said. "Oh, what do you mean?" she asked. "You've been thinking of the old one," said Evelyn. "Philip." "Quite true, I was," she said. "He is such a dear." "So glad you like him," muttered Evelyn, again frowning and biting his brushes. "Lord love us, what a blue world it is this morning! There, I can't paint any more just now." "That's rather sudden, isn't it?" "Oh, I always stop like that," said Evelyn. "I go on painting and painting, and then suddenly somebody turns a tap off in my head, and I've finished. I can't see any more, and I couldn't paint if I did. I suppose the day will come when the tap will be turned permanently off. Shortly afterwards I shall be seen to jump off Westminster Bridge. I only hope nobody will succeed in rescuing me." "I will try to remember if I happen to be there," said she. Evelyn put his sketch to dry in the shadow of the terrace wall. "The law is so ridiculous," he said. "They punish you if you don't succeed in committing suicide when you try to, and say you are temporarily insane if you do. Whereas the bungler is probably far more deranged than the man who does the job properly." "I shall never commit suicide," said Madge with conviction. "Ah, wait till you care about anything as much as I care about painting," said Evelyn, "and then contemplate living without it. Why, I should cease without it. The world would be no longer possible; it wouldn't, so to speak, hold water." "Ah, do you really feel about it like that?" said she. "Tell me what it's like, that feeling." Evelyn laughed. "You ought to know," he said, "because I imagine it's like being permanently in love." Here was as random an arrow as was ever let fly; he had been unconscious of even drawing his bow, but to his unutterable surprise it went full and straight to its mark. The girl's face went suddenly expressionless, as if a lamp within had been turned out, and she rose quickly, with a half-stifled exclamation. "Ah, what nonsense we are talking," she said quickly. Evelyn looked at her in genuine distress at having unwittingly caused her pain. "Why, of course we are," he said. "How people can talk sense all day beats me. They must live at such high pressure. Personally I preserve any precious grains of sense I may have, and put them into my pictures. Some of my pictures simply bristle with sense." The startled pain had not died out of Madge's eyes, but she laughed, and Evelyn, looking at her, gave a little staccato exclamation. "And what is it now?" she asked. "Why, you--you laughed with sad eyes. You were extraordinarily like what my picture will be at that moment."