What is
he? Bailey says he is an artist. Well, what has he ever done? Why don't
I know his name? I buy a good many pictures, but I don't remember ever
signing a cheque for one of his. I read the magazines now and then, but
I can't recall seeing his signature to any of the illustrations. How
does he live, anyway, without going into the question of how he intends
to support a wife?"
"Aunt Lora told me he had private means."
"How much?"
"Five thousand dollars a year."
"Exactly the amount necessary to let him live without working. I have
him placed now. I know his type. I could show you a thousand men in
this city in exactly the same position. They don't starve and they
don't work. This young man of yours is a loafer."
"Well?"
Ruth's voice was quiet, but a faint colour had crept into her face and
her eyes were blazing.
"Now perhaps you would care to hear what I think of his principles. How
do you feel that he comes out of this business? Does he show to
advantage? Isn't there just a suspicion of underhandedness about his
behaviour?"
"No."
"No? He lets you pay these secret visits----"
Ruth interrupted.
"There was nothing secret about them--to him. Aunt Lora brought me to
the studio in the first place, and she kept on bringing me. I don't
suppose it ever occurred to Kirk to wonder who I was and who my father
might be.
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