Naturally, I felt other things as
well....
"Mabel pays me five guineas for each one," I heard. "Absolutely
insists."
I stared at her stupidly a moment, bereft of speech or wit. "I must
either accept, or go away," she went on calmly, but a little white.
"I've tried everything. There was a scene the third day I was here--when
I showed her my first result. I wanted to write to you, but hesitated--"
"It's unintentional, then, on your part--forgive my asking it, Frances,
dear?" I blundered, hardly knowing what to think or say. "Between the
lines" of her letter came back to me. "I mean, you make the sketches in
your ordinary way and--the result comes out of itself, so to speak?"
She nodded, throwing her hands out like a Frenchman. "We needn't keep
the money for ourselves, Bill. We can give it away, but--I must either
accept or leave," and she repeated the shrugging gesture. She sat down
on the chair facing me, staring helplessly at the carpet.
"You say there was a scene?" I went on presently, "She insisted?"
"She begged me to continue," my sister replied very quietly. "She
thinks--that is, she has an idea or theory that there's something about
the place--something she can't get at quite.
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