This was so completely the normal Evelyn Dundas that Merivale, if not reassured, for there was no need for that, at any rate thought that he had been mistaken in his idea that some change had come to him. He was just the same vivid, eager boy that he had always been, blessed with one supreme talent, which, vampire-like, seemed to suck the blood out of all the other possibilities and dormant energies of his nature, and suck, too, all sense of responsibility from him. "Refuse them then," he said; "say 'I won't paint you; you sap my faculties.'" Evelyn burst out into a great shout of laughter. "'Mr. Dundas presents his compliments to Lady What's-hername,'" he said, "'and regrets, on inspection, that he is unable to paint her portrait, owing to the fact that a prolonged contemplation of her charms would sap his artistic powers, which he feels himself unwilling to part with.' What would be this rising young painter's position in a year's time, eh? His studio would be as empty as the New Forest. You might then come and live there, Tom." Evelyn finished his wine and lit a cigarette all in one breath. "Now, strange though it may seem to you," he said, "I feel that I've talked enough about myself for the moment, though I propose to go on afterwards. So, by way of transition, we will talk about you. As I dressed a number of frightful posers came into my head about you, and I want categorical answers. Now you've been here how long? More than a year, isn't it? What can you show for it? Number two: What's it all about? Number three: How can you call yourself a student of Nature when you deliberately shut your eyes to all the suffering, all the death, all the sacrifice that goes on eternally in Nature? I might as well call myself an artist and refuse to use blue and red in my pictures. I remember asking you something of this sort before, and your answer was eminently unsatisfactory. Besides, I have forgotten it." Merivale moved sideways to the table, and crossed one leg over the other. "Does it really at all interest you?" he said. "It does, or I should not ask. Another thing, too: I have been looking at you all dinner, and I could swear you look much younger than you did five years ago. Indeed, if I saw you now for the first time I should say you were not much more than twenty. Also you used to be a touchy, irritable sort of devil, and you look now as if nothing in the world had the power to make you cease smiling. Did you know, by the way, that you are always smiling a little?" Tom laughed. "No, not consciously," he said; "but now you mention it, it seems impossible that I should not." "Well, begin," said Evelyn, with his usual impatience. "Tell me all about it, and attempt to answer all those very pertinent questions. Smoke, too; I listen better to a person who is smoking, because I feel that he is more comfortable."