CHAPTER XXVIII: THE PORTRAIT
Florimel had found her daring visit to Lenorme stranger and more
fearful than she had expected: her courage was not quite so masterful
as she had thought. The next day she got Mrs Barnardiston to meet
her at the studio.-But she contrived to be there first by some
minutes, and her friend found her seated, and the painter looking
as if he had fairly begun his morning's work. When she apologised
for being late, Florimel said she supposed her groom had brought
round the horses before his time; being ready, she had not looked
at her watch. She was sharp on other people for telling stories
--but had of late ceased to see any great harm in telling one to
protect herself. The fact however had begun to present itself in
those awful morning hours that seem a mingling of time and eternity,
and she did not like the discovery that, since her intimacy with
Lenorme, she had begun to tell lies: what would he say if he knew?
Malcolm found it dreary waiting in the street while she sat to the
painter. He would not have minded it on Kelpie, for she was always
occupation enough, but with only a couple of quiet horses to hold,
it was dreary. He took to scrutinizing the faces that passed him,
trying to understand them. To his surprise he found that almost
everyone reminded him of somebody he had known before, though he
could not always identify the likeness.
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