'I beg your pardon,' he said, taking off his hat, 'you are sketching.'
'Oh!' she exclaimed, 'for my own amusement. I despise the thing.'
'Ten to one, you do yourself injustice,' returned d**k. 'Besides, it's a freemasonry. I sketch myself, and you know what that implies.'
'No. What?' she asked.
'Two things,' he answered. 'First, that I am no very difficult critic; and second, that I have a right to see your picture.'
She covered the block with both her hands. 'Oh no,' she said; 'I am ashamed.'
'Indeed, I might give you a hint,' said d**k. 'Although no artist myself, I have known many; in Paris I had many for friends, and used to prowl among studios.'
'In Paris?' she cried, with a leap of light into her eyes. 'Did you ever meet Mr. Van Tromp?'
'I? Yes. Why, you're not the Admiral's
