he put her at her ease.

The Chinese girl sighed, and the same compassion returned into her eyes as she looked long at Dick’s portrait.

She sighed again, but the coldness in her voice was not lost on Dick as she answered: “Yes, very nice picture Mrs. Forrest make.”

She looked at him with sudden sharp scrutiny, studying his face, then turned to the canvas and pointed at the eyes.

“No good,” she condemned.

Her voice was harsh, touched with anger.

“No good,” she flung over her shoulder, more loudly, still more harshly, as she continued down the room and out of sight on Paula’s sleeping porch.