Rudyard Kipling 143 “What for?” “Because it’s pretty. That is why you will come to the room across the landing three times a week at eleven in the morning, and I’ll give you three quid a week just for sitting still and being drawn. And there’s a quid on account.” “For nothing? Oh, my!” The girl turned the sovereign in her hand, and with more foolish tears, “Ain’t neither o’ you two gentlemen afraid of my bilking you?” “No. Only ugly girls do that. Try and remember this place. And, by the way, what’s your name?” “I'm Bessic, — Bessie — It’s no use giving the rest. Bessie Broke, — Stone-broke, if you like. What’s your names? But there, — no one ever gives the real ones.” Dick consulted Torpenhow with his eyes. “My name’s Heldar, and my friend’s called Torpenhow; and you must be sure to come here. Where do you live?” “South-the-water, — one room, — five and sixpence a week. Aren’t you making fun of me about that three quid?” “You'll see later on. And, Bessie, next time you come, remember, you needn’t wear that paint. It’s bad for the skin, and I have all the colors you'll be likely to need.” Bessie withdrew, scrubbing her cheek with a ragged pocket handkerchief. The two men looked at each other. “You're a man,” said Torpenhow. “I’m afraid I’ve been a fool. It isn’t our business to run about the earth reforming Bessie Brokes. And a woman of any kind has no right on this landing.” “Perhaps she won’t come back.” “She will if she thinks she can get food and warmth here. I know she will, worse luck. But remember, old man, she isn’t a woman; she’s my model; and be