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"Can we force her by threats to give evidence?" said Jen, angrily. "Oh, what about Dido and her meeting you?" Mrs. Shelly went on with her knitting, but Patricia, who was mending a long rent in her best blouse, looked up with eager interest..
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"I don't know if you call it business," he said, after a pause. "I asked Mr. Alymer to call and see me, and sent the message by that tramp named Battersea." On the large revolving model stand in the center sat a dark, slender Russian-looking young man, indifferent to the group that with their tall-wheeled stands were circled about him. He sat with his narrow blue eyes sleepily fixed on the wall, regardless alike of the sturdy smocked men and slender boys in full blue-paint jackets, as of the equally silent and clayey girls and women that scrutinized him with earnestly squinting eyelids. The only creature in the room that seemed to evoke the slightest responsive flicker of intelligence was the black-robed, gray-aproned, redundant figure of the monitor. Patricia reluctantly released her and she slipped away to her own table with Madalon Halden, Tom Hughes, and little Jack Grantly, a nephew of the sculptor, who had been invited specially for Judith's sake, and who was promptly set down by that discriminating young person as being much too young for the high post of companion to her. "The major! My guardian!" cried Alymer, quite thunderstruck. "Is he against me?".
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