malicious and tiresome--are you expecting him?"

"I couldn't say that."

"You are not expecting him!"

"My good girl, we expect from those we rely on. What do I know about
this fellow's character? I told him who I was, and what I wanted with
him, and that I wanted it with him at three this afternoon. He's got the
address. But whether we have any reason to expect him is more than I can
say."

She looked quickly at the watch on her wrist.

"It is past three. I was late."

After an instant of silence she sat down on an old-fashioned sofa
covered with dull green and red silk. Just behind it on an easel stood a
half-finished portrait of the Cora woman, staring with hungry eyes over
an empty tumbler.

"Give me a cigarette, Dick," she said. "Did he say he would come?"

The painter went over to an old Spanish cabinet and rummaged for a box
of cigarettes, with his horsey-looking back turned towards her.

"Did he?" she repeated. "Can't you tell me what happened when you spoke
to him? Why force me to cross-examine you in this indelicate way?"

"Here you are!" said Garstin, turning round with a box of cigarettes.