And his mirth was contagious; Franks chuckled, unwillingly, dolefully.
"You are not extravagant in sympathy," said the artist, moving with fretful nervousness.
"If I were, would it do you any good, old fellow?
Look here, are we to talk of this affair or not?
Just as you like.

For my part, I'd rather talk about 'The Slummer.' I had a look at it the other day.

Uncommonly good, the blackguard on the curbstone, you've got him." "You think so ?" Franks sat a little straighter, but still with vacant eye.

"Yes, not bad, I think.

But who knows whether I shall finish the thing." "If you don't," replied his friend, in a matter-of-fact tone, "you'll do something better.