The big painter sat with his long legs sprawling in front of him, a black pipe in his mouth, and looked at Larry skeptically.

"You certainly did hand a jolt to your friends who'd been counting on you.

And yet you're sore because they were sore at you and didn't believe in you." "Did I say that I was sore ?" queried Larry.
"No, but you're acting it.

And you're sore at Maggie because she didn't believe that you could make good or that you'd stick it out.

Well, I don't believe you will either." "You're a great painter, Hunt, and a great cook--but I don't give a damn what you believe." "Keep your shirt on, young fellow," Hunt responded, puffing imperturbably.