unfavorable? Heavens, how unfortunate!” exclaimed the director airily. “Surely, my application— Does the room fail to meet his approval, or—”
“Yes, it does,” she interrupted. “He says it’s no place for a man to be in; and he says the pictures are—are—well, he says they are improper!” glancing at the Venus.
“Ah!” responded the director with a suspicious sweetness. “He does not care for the nude, then?”
She sighed deeply. “Oh, Mr. Welles!”
“It is indeed to be regretted that Mr. Waters’s ideals are so high—and—shall we say—so elusive?” proceeded the director smoothly. “It is so difficult—so well-nigh impossible—to satisfy him. One devotes one’s energies—I may say one slaves night and day—to win some slight mark of approval; and just as one is about to reap the well-earned reward—a smile, a word of appreciation—all is forfeited! It is hard indeed! Would
