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Newspaper Page Text
was the model that he had sought
so long. Afterward, later that
night, undoubtedly he could suc
ceed in ascertaining where she
lived and take her home.
She had no fear of him. She
seemed like a tremulous, innocent
child when he escorted her into
the house, up the dim passage
and stairs, to his attic at the top
of the house. He motioned her
to a chair before the glowing fire,
and busied himself preparing hot
milk for her. She drank willing
ly, but not greedily. Evidently
she was not hungry merely lost.
She seemed naively interested
in the pictures that stood round
the room , and went from one to
another, clapping her hands with
delight. But he could not under
stand a word she said. She was
certainly not an European girl.
Perhaps she was a Syrian. He
took his brush and platette and
began deftly changing the face of
the woman in the picture. It was
midnight before he had finished,
and even then he was not satis
fied. "Now you must go home," he
said, and pointed toward the
door. He put on his hat and
overcoat again. But when he
made his object evident she be
gan weeping and clung to him,
looking up imploringly into his
face. And so, seeing her distress,'
he hesitated. And then he
thought of the empty bedroom
adjoining his studio.
Well, there was nothing but to
offer her hospitality. She under
stood at once and assented eager
ly. The night seemed to hold
unknov - ferror for her. And so,
handing her the key, he opened
the door for her and the girl went
in, smiling good-night at him and
murmuring in her cooing lan
guage which was like no earthly I
speech that Harned had ever
Harned was awake between1
times the following morning, but'
when he was dressed and ready'
to begin breakfast there came a
tap at the door and the unknown
stood there, beaming upon him.
So he prepared breakfast for two
and then painted her again.
And he did not telephone for
the police. For by this time the
novel companionship, and a
sense, too, that that destiny had
sent her to him, had-stolen awky
his judgment. And so for days
he painted until at last the pic
ture was completed. And nightly
she withdrew to the little room
adjoining the studio, and every
morning she came in, radiant
and fresh, and prepared break
fast. She cooked his meals,
dusted and swept, and Showed no
more concern than a child for the
Harned had always lived a very
lonely life. It had been one 06
intense struggles and hardships,
too, until, a year before, his pic-'
tures had begun to attract the no-1
tice of a small group of con-'
noisseurs and had secured him
purchasers at a little more than1
the scanty price which 'he had'
hitherto commanded. Now the:
gentle influence of the strange
girl stole into his heart. He lov-,
ed her. And he began to plan