"You would know me more, and love me less? Is that it?" he said
carelessly. "My dear girl, why do you press the point? If you will
have it, I tell you frankly, I think women are growing very clever,
much too clever in fact,--and that the encouragement and impetus
given to them in the Arts is a very great mistake. Because they are
not all geniuses like my Angela! You are one in a thousand--or
rather one in a million,--and for one Angela Sovrani we shall have a
world of female daubers calling themselves artists and entering into
competition with us, as if we had not already quite enough
competition among our own sex! I honestly believe that with very
rare exceptions woman's work is decidedly inferior and mediocre as
compared to man's."
Quickly Angela disengaged herself from his hold, her lips trembling-
-her eyes were full of a strange fire and brilliancy,--her slight
figure seemed to grow taller as she stood for a moment like a queen,
regarding him steadfastly from under her fair, level brows.
"Then come and see!" she said, "I am not proud--I make no boast at
all of what I have done--and no one perceives or deplores the faults
of my work more than I do--but I know I have not altogether failed!"
She moved away from him and stood opposite her veiled canvas,--then
as Florian followed and joined her, with a swift action which had
something of defiance as well as grace in it, she swept aside the
concealing curtain.
Pages:
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673