The passion in Hughs' face was gone as soon.
Bianca felt a sense of disappointment, as though she could have wished
her life held a little more of that. He stole a glance at her out of his
dark eyes, which, when narrowed, had a velvety look, like the body of a
wild bee, then jerked his thumb at the picture of the little model.
"It's about her I come to speak."
Blanca faced him frigidly.
"I have not the slightest wish to hear."
Hughs looked round, as though to find something that would help him to
proceed; his eyes lighted on Hilary's portrait.
"Ah! I'd put the two together if I was you," he said.
Blanca walked past him to the door.
"Either you or I must leave the room."
The man's face was neither sullen now nor passionate, but simply
miserable.
"Look here, lady," he said, "don't take it hard o' me coming here. I'm
not out to do you a harm. I've got a wife of my own, and Gawd knows I've
enough to put up with from her about this girl. I'll be going in the
water one of these days. It's him giving her them clothes that set me
coming here."
Blanca opened the door. "Please go," she said.
"I'll go quiet enough," he muttered, and, hanging his head, walked out.
Having seen him through the side door out into the street, Blanca went
back to where she had been standing before he came.
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