\" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. What were you doing at Remenham House? I can’t puzzle that bit out. She sings better perhaps. To be with you is the best moral tonic I know. “Forgive you, indeed.
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