"With her? That model? Why, no! What made you think so?" Junia was disconcerted. "Oh, only—only the hints that have seeped through when you didn’t think you were giving anything away." He said, with some firmness: "I never meant to give that away—or to hint that it was—that it was love—a _rouleuse_ of the studios, whom any fellow can pick up." Junia felt like a person roaming aimlessly through sand who suddenly stumbles on gold. There was more here than, for the moment, she could estimate. All she could see were possibilities; but there was one other point as to which she needed to be sure. It was conceivable that the thing might have been painted long ago, before Bob’s departure for South America, in which case it would lose at least some of its value for her purpose. "When did you do this, Hubert?" "Oh, just within the last few weeks." This was enough. With her usual swiftness of decision, she had her plans in mind. "What are you asking?" He named his price. It was a large one, but her balance at the bank was large. It could be put to this use as well as to another. "I’ll take it," she said, after a minute’s consideration, "if you could let me have it within a few days." Not to betray the eagerness he felt, he said that it would give him publicity to keep it on view as long as possible. "It will be almost as much publicity to have it on view at Marillo." And in the end he agreed that this was so. He walked back to the studio as if wings on his feet were lifting him above the pavement. It was the seal on his success. "Sold to a private collector" would be a bomb to throw among the dealers, who had been taking their time and dickering. It was more than the seal on this one success; it was a harbinger of the next success. And with this thing behind him, the next success was calling to him to begin. He already knew what he should begin on. It was to be called, "Eve Tempting the Serpent." He was not yet sure how he should treat the idea, but a lethargic semihuman reptile was to be roused to the concept of evil by a woman’s beauty and abandonment. The thing would be daring; but it couldn’t be too daring, or it would bring down on him the recrudescent blue-law spirit already so vigorous through the country. He couldn’t afford a tussle with that until he was better established. But he had made some sketches, and had written to Jennie that he should like to talk the matter over on that very afternoon. She had written in reply that, at last, she would be free to come. For the first few days after the funeral she had been either too grief stricken or too busy; but now the claims of life were asserting themselves again and she was trying to respond to them. He must not expect her to be gay; but she would grow more cheerful in time.