“No,” said Hans, putting touches to his picture, “I made up my mind to the subject before. I take that lucky chance for an augury that I am going to burst on the world as a great painter. I saw a splendid woman in the Trastevere—the grandest women there are half Jewesses—and she set me hunting for a fine situation of a Jewess at Rome. Like other men of vast learning, I ended by taking what lay on the surface. I’ll show you a sketch of the Trasteverina’s head when I can lay my hands on it.”
“I should think she would be a more suitable model for Berenice,” said Deronda, not knowing exactly how to express his discontent.
“Not a bit of it. The model ought to be the most beautiful Jewess in the world, and I have found her.”
“Have you made yourself sure that she would like to figure in that c
