I want to know whether--you--think--" He spoke very slowly, and stopped again.

Before he resumed he saw Lawrence Newt shake his head negatively.
"Why, what ?" asked Arthur, quickly.
"I do not believe she ever will," replied the other, as if the artist had asked a question with his eyes.

He spoke in a very low, serious tone.
"Will what ?" asked Arthur, his face burning with a bright crimson flush.
Lawrence Newt waited a moment to give his friend time to recover, before he said, "Shall I say what ?" Arthur also waited for a little while; then he said, sadly, "No, it's no matter." He seemed to have grown older as he sat looking from the window.

His hands idly played no longer, but rested quietly upon the chair.

He shook his head slowly, and repeated, in a tone that touched his friend to the heart, "No--no--it's no matter." "But, Arthur, it's only my opinion," said the other, kindly.
"And mine too," replied the artist, with an inexpressible sadness.
Lawrence Newt was silent.