DOI Artikel:
Sharp, Evelyn: A new poster
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27805#0159
By Evelyn Sharp 155
world you have no suspicion of? It is mean and unmanly of
you.”
Willis by no means showed himself disconcerted at this out-
burst. She was in the mood that was most familiar to him, the
one in which he had seen her most often before, and he brightened
considerably at the opportunities it offered him.
“ Doesn’t he get paid for his pictures then, eh ? ” he asked with
a chuckle.
“ I don’t mind how much you laugh,” cried Cynthia, “ I have
heard all those stale arguments before, and they are quite fruitless,
every one. I am glad I never need listen to them any more ; I
am glad there is some one who can lift me out of my old miserable
surroundings, and who can’t allude to them either because he
never knew anything about them. Adrian will never know any
more of my history than I choose to tell him, never ! I am glad
I am going to throw away my ill-gotten fortune, the price of
trade and robbery and everything I loathe. I am glad, glad,
glad ! ”
Willis Ruthven gave a long whistle and strode over to the
window before he spoke.
“Who told you that Marks didn’t know anything about you ? ”
he asked sharply.
“What do you mean?” she said, with a vague feeling of
alarm.
“Well, my dear girl, I suppose that the fool who painted that
nonsensical poster of yours must have known what he was paint-
ing it for, eh ? Not that the poster itself proves it, to be sure.”
Cynthia did not speak. The artistic atmosphere was being
slowly dissipated.
“All I know is,” went on Willis from the window, “that
when I was down at Johnson’s this morning, this dandy artist
The Yellow Book—Vol. VI. k you
world you have no suspicion of? It is mean and unmanly of
you.”
Willis by no means showed himself disconcerted at this out-
burst. She was in the mood that was most familiar to him, the
one in which he had seen her most often before, and he brightened
considerably at the opportunities it offered him.
“ Doesn’t he get paid for his pictures then, eh ? ” he asked with
a chuckle.
“ I don’t mind how much you laugh,” cried Cynthia, “ I have
heard all those stale arguments before, and they are quite fruitless,
every one. I am glad I never need listen to them any more ; I
am glad there is some one who can lift me out of my old miserable
surroundings, and who can’t allude to them either because he
never knew anything about them. Adrian will never know any
more of my history than I choose to tell him, never ! I am glad
I am going to throw away my ill-gotten fortune, the price of
trade and robbery and everything I loathe. I am glad, glad,
glad ! ”
Willis Ruthven gave a long whistle and strode over to the
window before he spoke.
“Who told you that Marks didn’t know anything about you ? ”
he asked sharply.
“What do you mean?” she said, with a vague feeling of
alarm.
“Well, my dear girl, I suppose that the fool who painted that
nonsensical poster of yours must have known what he was paint-
ing it for, eh ? Not that the poster itself proves it, to be sure.”
Cynthia did not speak. The artistic atmosphere was being
slowly dissipated.
“All I know is,” went on Willis from the window, “that
when I was down at Johnson’s this morning, this dandy artist
The Yellow Book—Vol. VI. k you