"What were you doing last night?" I asked, abruptly. If I
interrupted the work on the bushes, no matter; she must work less.
She looked up with a sudden flush.
"How did you know?" she answered, looking at me with confusion and
perplexity in her eyes.
"I know nothing. I merely ask you. You were up all night?"
Her face became quite pale again, and she raised her eyebrows with a
slight smile of indifference.
"Yes, I was."
I paled too, with annoyance.
"Lucia! this is the one thing I asked you to do for me; to give your
nights, at least, to rest!"
"I know you did," she said, passionately, looking at me, her lips
quivering and her face growing paler and paler. "But it is
impossible sometimes! What gain is there in discussing these things?
A perfect scheme came to me last night, and I sat here thinking of
it--planning it upon this canvas. I could not have slept had I left
this room. Besides, to close your brain to your ideas when they do
come!--it is madness! I might never have seen the picture so vividly
before me again if I had not stayed to think it out, to realise it,
to impress it, as it were, clearly on myself. I cannot promise you,
Victor--I never have, I would not before--to go to bed and try to
sleep when a plan occurs to me suddenly for a canvas, as it did last
night!"
"But think of sitting in a room like this all night with no fire!
This studio is positively freezing!"
"Is it? I don't feel it.
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