What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. ’ No Latin? And no guns or daggers, naturally. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. "What do you want fot that coat, friend?" asked Jack, as he came up.
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