Under the huge north light was the easel, and clamped upon it the stretcher, blank, and untouched.

The very sight of the heavy cream-white twill was an inspiration.

Already Vandover saw a great picture upon it; a great wave of emotion suddenly welled up within him and he cried with enthusiasm: "By God! it is in moods like this that _chef d'oeuvres_ are made." Around the baseboard of the room were a row of _esquisses_ for the picture, on small landscape-stretchers, mere blotches of colour laid on with the palette knife and large brushes, almost unintelligible to any one but Vandover.

He selected two or three of these and fastened them to the easel above the big stretcher where he could have them continually in his eye.

He lit his pipe, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and standing before the easel, began to sharpen a stick of charcoal with an old razor, drawing the blade toward him so as to keep the point of the stick from breaking.