, beside him, painting
Mrs. Tremaine, in a black evening dress. She sits in a chair upon
the "throne" a piece of tapestry behind her, up the stage
L. Oak table against L wall, above fireplace._
Denham.
Head a little more up. No, I don't want you like that.
Mrs. Tremaine.
Come and pose me then.
Denham.
All right. (_He poses her, then goes back to the easel._) By Jove!
this is getting serious. This is the best thing I have done.
Mrs. Tremaine.
So you say of them all. This is the third attempt. How many more do
you intend to make?
Denham.
Oh, I don't know! I should like to go on as long as I could make
headway. (_He paints in silence for some time._) There, I am getting
something I never got before--the real woman at last.
Mrs. Tremaine.
May I see?
Denham.
For Heaven's sake, don't stir! (_Paints again._) Blanche!
Mrs. Tremaine.
Well?
Denham.
Do you know I was a fool, to say you were not beautiful?
Mrs. Tremaine.
You only spoke the truth.
Denham.
It is a higher truth to say you are; and you seem to have grown
_more_ beautiful this last month.
Mrs. Tremaine.
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