And very often I washed my own handkerchiefs and dried them on the window pane.

I had only fame for my laundress and notoriety for my butcher." "Hey ?" said Allaire, a trifle out of countenance.
"It is very true.

It cost me so much to paint and frame my pictures that the prices they brought scarcely paid for models and materials." He added, pleasantly: "I have dined more often on a box of crackers and a jar of olives than at a table set with silver and spread with linen." He laughed without affectation or bitterness: "It has been a long road, Allaire--from a stable-loft studio to--" he shrugged--"the 'Van Rypens' grand tier box, for example." "How in God's name did you do it ?" inquired Allaire, awed to the momentary obliteration of envy.
"I--painted," said Querida, smiling.
"Sure.

I know that.

I suppose it was the hellish row made over your canvases last winter that did the trick." Querida's eyes were partly closed as though in retrospection.