Kirk touched on the work-shy father, dwelt feelingly on the young
gentleman who travelled in hats. Ruth had made up her mind. It was
thumbs down for Miss Vince.
'But if I'm to paint,' said Kirk, 'I must have models.'
'There must be hundreds who don't call you by your Christian name.'
'After about five minutes they all do,' said Kirk. 'It's a way they've
got. They mean no harm.'
Ruth then made this brilliant suggestion: 'Kirk, dear, why don't you
paint landscapes?'
In spite of his annoyance, he laughed.
'Why don't I paint landscapes, Ruth? Because I'm not a landscape
painter, that's why.'
'You could learn.'
'It's a different branch of the trade altogether. You might just as
well tell a catcher to pitch.'
'Well, anyhow,' reported Ruth with spirit, 'I won't have that Vince
creature in the place again.'
It was the first time she had jerked at the reins or given any sign
that she was holding them, and undoubtedly this was the moment at which
Kirk should have said: 'My dearest, the time has come for me to state
plainly that my soul is my own. I decline to give in to this absurd
suggestion. Marriage is an affair of give and take, not a circus where
one party holds the hoop while the other jumps through and shams dead.
We shall be happier later on if we get this clearly into our heads
now.'
What he did say was: 'Very well, dear. I'll write and tell her not to
come.'
He knew he was being abominably weak, but he did not care. He even felt
a certain pleasure in his surrender. Big, muscular men are given to
this feebleness with women. Hercules probably wore an idiotic grin of
happiness when he spun wool for Omphale.
Since then the picture had been laid aside, but Kirk's desire to be up
and at it had grown with inaction. When a lazy man does make up his
mind to assail a piece of work, he is like a dog with a bone.
* * * * *
The music had stopped. Ruth swung round.
'What are you dreaming about Kirk?'
Kirk came to himself with a start.
'I was thinking of a lot of things. For one, about that picture of
mine.'
'What about it?'
'Well, when I was going to finish it.'
'Why don't you?'
Kirk laughed.
'Where's my model? You've scared her up a tree, and I can't coax her
down.'
Ruth came over to him and sat down on a low chair at his side. She put
her arm round his waist and rested her head in the hollow of his
shoulder.
'Is he pining for his horrid Vince girl, the poor boy?'
