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The Nest Builder by Beatrice Forbes-Robertson Hale
page 63 of 379 (16%)
to discuss the price of saucepans with a goddess," he explained. "Are you
sure you can face the tedium?"

"Why, I shall love it!" she cried, astonished at such an expression.

He regarded her whimsically. "Genius of efficiency, then I shall leave it
to you. Such things appal me. In Paris, my garret was furnished only with
pictures. I inherited the bed from the last occupant, and I think Adolph
insisted on finding a pillow and a frying-pan. He used to come up and
cook for us both sometimes, when he thought I had been eating too often
at restaurants. He approved of economy, did Adolph." Stefan was lounging
on the bed, with his perpetual cigarette.

"He must be a dear," said Mary. She had begun to make a shopping list.
"Tell me, absurd creature, what you really need in the studio. There is a
model throne, you will remember."

"Oh, I'll get my own easel and stool," he replied quickly. "There's
nothing else, except of course a table for my paints. A good solid one,"
he added with emphasis. "I'll tell you what," and he sat up. "I go out
early to-morrow on my dealer hunt. I force myself to stay out until late
afternoon. When I return, behold! The goddess has waved her hand, and
invisible minions--" he circled the air with his cigarette--"have
transported her temple across the square. There she sits enthroned,
waiting for her acolyte. How will that do?" He turned his radiant smile
on her.

"Splendid," she answered, amused. "I only hope the goddess won't get
chipped in the passage."

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