The day after that, by what seemed to be a superhuman effort, Mr. Owen had practically finished the picture.
But Josina felt again as if her back was breaking.
When she finally looked at the picture, she thought that it was extremely clever and beautifully done in the way that her mother had explained to her that Watts painted.
Mr. Owen’s picture was not just a portrait.
It had an imaginary power about it that changed it into something quite different.
It also had the gentle allure of Watts’s colour harmonies, which made her seem not exactly real but part of a dream.
She had glanced at the other pictures that were in the studio and she was aware that, like Watts, he added his allegories and fantasies to reality.
In fact she thought that it was rather hard to recognise herself becaus
