’It’stoogoodofyou，——muchtoogoodBecauseyouareconsolingyourselfwithwhatwillneverhappen，andIknowthat，andyetIwanttokeepyouDon’tblamemelater，please。’
’I’mgoingintothematterwithmyeyesopenMoreovertheQueencandonowrongItisn’tyourselfishnessthatimpressesmeIt’syouraudacityinproposingtomakeuseofme。’
’Pooh！You’reonlyDick，——andaprint-shop。’
’Verygood：that’sallIamBut，Maisie，youbelieve，don’tyou，thatIloveyou？Idon’twantyoutohaveanyfalsenotionsaboutbrothersandsisters。’
Maisielookedupforamomentanddroppedhereyes。
’It’sabsurd，but——IbelieveIwishIcouldsendyouawaybeforeyougetangrywithmeBut——butthegirlthatliveswithmeisred-haired，andanimpressionist，andallournotionsclash。’
’Sodoours，IthinkNevermindThreemonthsfromto-dayweshallbelaughingatthistogether。’
Maisieshookherheadmournfully’Iknewyouwouldn’tunderstand，anditwillonlyhurtyoumorewhenyoufindoutLookatmyface，Dick，andtellmewhatyousee。’
TheystoodupandfacedeachotherforamomentThefogwasgathering，anditstifledtheroarofthetrafficofLondonbeyondtherailingsDickbroughtallhispainfullyacquiredknowledgeoffacestobearontheeyes，mouth，andchinunderneaththeblackvelvettoque。
’It’sthesameMaisie，andit’sthesameme，’hesaid’We’vebothnicelittlewillsofourown，andoneorotherofushastobebroken。
NowaboutthefutureImustcomeandseeyourpicturessomeday，——Isupposewhenthered-hairedgirlisonthepremises。’
’SundaysaremybesttimesYoumustcomeonSundaysTherearesuchheapsofthingsIwanttotalkaboutandaskyouradviceabout。
NowI
mustgetbacktowork。’
’TrytofindoutbeforenextSundaywhatIam，’saidDick’Don’ttakemywordforanythingI’vetoldyouGood-bye，darling，andblessyou。’
MaisiestoleawaylikealittlegraymouseDickwatchedhertillshewasoutofsight，buthedidnothearhersaytoherself，verysoberly，’I’mawretch，——ahorrid，selfishwretchButit’sDick，andDickwillunderstand。’
Noonehasyetexplainedwhatactuallyhappenswhenanirresistibleforcemeetstheimmovablepost，thoughmanyhavethoughtdeeply，evenasDickthoughtHetriedtoassurehimselfthatMaisiewouldbeledinafewweeksbyhismerepresenceanddiscoursetoabetterwayofthinkingThenherememberedmuchtoodistinctlyherfaceandallthatwaswrittenonit。
’IfIknowanythingofheads，’hesaid，’there’severythinginthatfacebutloveIshallhavetoputthatinmyself；andthatchinandmouthwon’tbewonfornothingButshe’srightSheknowswhatshewants，andshe’sgoingtogetitWhatinsolence！Me！Ofallthepeopleinthewideworld，touseme！Butthenshe’sMaisieThere’snogettingoverthatfact；
andit’sgoodtoseeheragainThisbusinessmusthavebeensimmeringatthebackofmyheadforyearsShe’llusemeasIusedBinatatPortSaid。
She’squiterightItwillhurtalittleIshallhavetoseehereverySunday，——likeayoungmancourtingahousemaidShe’ssuretocomearound；andyet——thatmouthisn’tayieldingmouthIshallbewantingtokissherallthetime，andIshallhavetolookatherpictures，——I
don’tevenknowwhatsortofworkshedoesyet，——andIshallhavetotalkaboutArt，——Woman’sArt！Therefore，particularlyandperpetually，damnallvarietiesofArtItdidmeagoodturnonce，andnowit’sinmywayI’llgohomeanddosomeArt。’
Half-waytothestudio，Dickwassmittenwithaterriblethought。
Thefigureofasolitarywomaninthefogsuggestedit。
’She’sallaloneinLondon，withared-hairedimpressionistgirl，whoprobablyhasthedigestionofanostrichMostred-hairedpeoplehave。
Maisie’sabiliouslittlebodyThey’lleatlikelonewomen，——mealsatallhours，andteawithallmealsIrememberhowthestudentsinParisusedtopigalongShemayfallillatanyminute，andIshan’tbeabletohelp。
Whew！thisistentimesworsethanowningawife。’
Torpenhowenteredthestudioatdusk，andlookedatDickwitheyesfulloftheausterelovethatspringsupbetweenmenwhohavetuggedatthesameoartogetherandareyokedbycustomanduseandtheintimaciesoftoilThisisagoodlove，and，sinceitallows，andevenencourages，strife，recrimination，andbrutalsincerity，doesnotdie，butgrows，andisproofagainstanyabsenceandevilconduct。
DickwassilentafterhehandedTorpenhowthefilledpipeofcouncilHethoughtofMaisieandherpossibleneedsItwasanewthingtothinkofanybodybutTorpenhow，whocouldthinkforhimselfHereatlastwasanoutletforthatcashbalanceHecouldadornMaisiebarbaricallywithjewelry，——athickgoldnecklaceroundthatlittleneck，braceletsupontheroundedarms，andringsofpriceuponherhands，——thiecool，temperate，ringlesshandsthathehadtakenbetweenhisownItwasanabsurdthought，forMaisiewouldnotevenallowhimtoputoneringononefinger，andshewouldlaughatgoldentrappingsItwouldbebettertositwithherquietlyinthedusk，hisarmaroundherneckandherfaceonhisshoulder，asbefittedhusbandandwifeTorpenhow’sbootscreakedthatnight，andhisstrongvoicejarredDick’sbrowscontractedandhemurmuredanevilwordbecausehehadtakenallhissuccessasarightandpartpaymentforpastdiscomfort，andnowhewascheckedinhisstridebyawomanwhoadmittedallthesuccessanddidnotinstantlycareforhim。
’Isay，oldman，’saidTorpenhow，whohadmadeoneortwovainattemptsatconversation，’Ihaven’tputyourbackupbyanythingI’vesaidlately，haveI？’
’You！NoHowcouldyou？’
’Liveroutoforder？’
’Thetrulyhealthymandoesn’tknowhehasaliverI’monlyabitworriedaboutthingsingeneralIsupposeit’smysoul。’
’Thetrulyhealthymandoesn’tknowhehasasoulWhatbusinesshaveyouwithluxuriesofthatkind？’
’ItcameofitselfWho’sthemanthatsaysthatwe’reallislandsshoutingliestoeachotheracrossseasofmisunderstanding？’
’He’sright，whoeverheis，——exceptaboutthemisunderstandingI
don’tthinkwecouldmisunderstandeachother。’
ThebluesmokecurledbackfromtheceilingincloudsThenTorpenhow，insinuatingly——
’Dick，isitawoman？’
’Behangedifit’sanythingremotelyresemblingawoman；andifyoubegintotalklikethat，I’llhireared-brickstudiowithwhitepainttrimmings，andbegoniasandpetuniasandblueHungariastoplayamongthree-and-sixpennypot-palms，andI’llmountallmypicsinaniline-dyeplushplasters，andI’llinviteeverywomanwhomaundersoverwhatherguide-bookstellherisArt，andyoushallreceive’em，Torp，——inasnuff-brownvelvetcoatwithyellowtrousersandanorangetie。
You’lllikethat？’
’Toothin，DickAbettermanthanyouoncedeniedwithcursingandswearingYou’veoverdoneit，justashedidIt’snobusinessofmine，ofcourse，butit’scomfortingtothinkthatsomewhereunderthestarsthere’ssavingupforyouatremendousthrashingWhetherit’llcomefromheavenorearth，Idon’tknow，butit’sboundtocomeandbreakyouupalittleYouwanthammering。’
Dickshivered’Allright，’saidhe’Whenthisislandisdisintegrated，itwillcallforyou。’
’Ishallcomeroundthecornerandhelptodisintegrateitsomemore。
We’retalkingnonsenseComealongtoatheatre。’
’Andyoumayleadathousandmen，Noreverdrawtherein，ButereyeleadtheFaeryQueen’Twillburstyourheartintwain。’
Hehasslippedhisfootfromthestirrup-bar，Thebridlefromhishand，AndheisboundbyhandandfootTotheQueeno’Faery-land。
SirHoggieandtheFairies。
SOMEweekslater，onaveryfoggySunday，DickwasreturningacrosstheParktohisstudio’This，’hesaid，’isevidentlythethrashingthatTorpmeantIthurtsmorethanIexpected；buttheQueencandonowrong；andshecertainlyhassomenotionofdrawing。’
HehadjustfinishedaSundayvisittoMaisie，——alwaysunderthegreeneyesofthered-hairedimpressionistgirl，whomhelearnedtohateatsight，——andwastinglingwithakeensenseofshameSundayafterSunday，puttingonhisbestclothes，hehadwalkedovertotheuntidyhousenorthofthePark，firsttoseeMaisie’spictures，andthentocriticiseandadviseuponthemasherealisedthattheywereproductionsonwhichadvicewouldnotbewastedSundayafterSunday，andhislovegrewwitheachvisit，hehadbeencompelledtocramhisheartbackfrombetweenhislipswhenitpromptedhimtokissMaisieseveraltimesandverymuchindeedSundayafterSunday，theheadabovethehearthadwarnedhimthatMaisiewasnotyetattainable，andthatitwouldbebettertotalkasconnectedlyaspossibleuponthemysteriesofthecraftthatwasallinalltoherThereforeitwashisfatetoendureweeklytortureinthestudiobuiltoutovertheclammybackgardenofafrailstuffylittlevillawherenothingwaseverinitsrightplaceandnobodyeverycalled，——toendureandtowatchMaisiemovingtoandfrowiththeteacupsHeabhorredtea，but，sinceitgavehimalittlelongertimeinherpresence，hedrankitdevoutly，andthered-hairedgirlsatinanuntidyheapandeyedhimwithoutspeakingShewasalwayswatchinghim。
Once，andonlyonce，whenshehadleftthestudio，Maisieshowedhimanalbumthatheldafewpoorcuttingsfromprovincialpapers，——thebriefestofhurriednotesonsomeofherpicturessenttooutlyingexhibitionsDickstoopedandkissedthepaint-smudgedthumbontheopenpage。
’Oh，mylove，mylove，’hemuttered，’doyouvaluethesethings？Chuck’emintothewaste-paperbasket！’
’NottillIgetsomethingbetter，’saidMaisie，shuttingthebook。
ThenDick，movedbynorespectforhispublicandaverydeepregardforthemaiden，diddeliberatelypropose，inordertosecuremoreofthesecovetedcuttings，thatheshouldpaintapicturewhichMaisieshouldsign。
’That’schildish，’saidMaisie，’andIdidn’tthinkitofyouItmustbemyworkMine，——mine，——mine！’