He is waiting for me, but I cannot go to him till my share is done.' She was gazing at the face again, while Madame Bernard looked from it to her in undisguised astonishment.
'I do not understand, my dear,' she said very gently.

'Who has brought you this wonderful picture ?' She hardly expected an explanation, and she guessed that the portrait was Durand's work, for few living painters could have made such a likeness, and none would have painted it in that way, which was especially his own.

To her surprise Angela turned on her chair without rising, and told her just what had happened, since he had come in early in the afternoon bringing the picture with him.

When she had finished she turned to it again, as if there were nothing more to be said, and at that moment Coco began to talk in a tone that made further conversation impossible.

Madame Bernard took him on her hand and disappeared with him.
When she came back, Angela was standing on a chair holding up the portrait with both hands and trying to hang it by the inner edge of the frame on an old nail she had found already driven into the wall.
Madame Bernard at once began to help her, as if not at all surprised at her sudden energy, though it seemed nothing less than miraculous.
They succeeded at last, and both got down from their chairs and drew back two steps to judge of the effect.
'It is a little too high,' Angela said thoughtfully.