226 The Light That Failed at least to see what would happen, and by her teachings it was good for a man to stand in certain awe of his companion. She laughed nervously, and slipped out of his reach. “T shouldn’t worrit about that picture if I was you,” she began, in the hope of turning his attention. “Tt’s at the back of all my canvases somewhere. Find it, Bess; you know it as well as I do.” “I know — but —” “But what? You’ve wit enough to manage the sale of it to a dealer. Women haggle much better than men. It might be a matter of eight or nine hundred pounds to —to us. I simply didn’t like to think about it for a long time. It was mixed up with my life so. — But we'll cover up our tracks and get rid of everything, eh? Make a fresh start from the beginning, Bess.” Then she began to repent very much indeed, because she knew the value of money. Still, it was probable that the blind man was overestimating the value of his work. Gentlemen, she knew, were absurdly particular about their things. She giggled as a nervous housemaid giggles when she tries to explain the breakage of a pipe. “I'm very sorry, but you remember I was — I was angry with you before Mr. Torpenhow went away?” “You were very angry, child; and on my word I think you had some right to be.” “Then I — but aren’t you sure Mr. Torpenhow didn’t tell you?” “Tell me what? Good gracious, what are you making such a fuss about when you might just as well be giving me another kiss?” He was beginning to learn, not for the first time in his experience, that kissing is a cumulative poison. The more you get of it, the more you want. Bessie gave the kiss promptly, whispering, as she did so, “I was so angry I rubbed out that picture with the turpentine. You