what's the matter with getting at it while the light's still good?"
He was startled to see a ghost of a flush creep up into her faded cheeks.
"That would be impossible to-day," she told him with something oddly akin to terror in the eyes which evaded his.
"Why not to-day?" he asked, intent on his study of her mysterious abashment.
"They will have to be prepared," she replied, ill at ease.
"What do you mean by prepared?"
"They will have to be cleaned, for one thing."
"And how do you propose cleaning them?" he demanded.
"I have always regarded coal oil and turpentine as quite satisfactory," she retorted, plainly resenting his tone.
"Then if your canvases are of any value you've been using something which will very quickly take the value out of them. You'd kill their color in no time. We wash a picture with cheesecloth in warm water and soap, the same as you'd wash fine lace; and a part of the trick is to dry it quickly
