It is certain that neither could help those smiles, which were not intended to wound, but came on their faces as naturally as moonlight falls on water, out of their inimically constituted souls.
Hilary spent two afternoons among his artist friends, trying, by means of the indications he had gathered, to find a model for "The Shadow." He had found one at last.

Her name, Barton, and address had been given him by a painter of still life, called French.
"She's never sat to me," he said; "my sister discovered her in the West Country somewhere.

She's got a story of some sort.

I don't know what.
She came up about three months ago, I think." "She's not sitting to your sister now ?" Hilary asked.
"No," said the painter of still life; "my sister's married and gone out to India.

I don't know whether she'd sit for the half-draped, but I should think so.