I'm not a money-grabber.
I'm an artist if I'm anything, and I'm not doing this permanently. I'm
only helping my father while he's in a hole."
The girl suddenly grew serious. "You mean you're not going to stick to
the business, and take Fabian's place in it? He's been for a week with
Belloc and he's never coming back here. You have the brains for it; and
you could make your father happy and inherit his fortune--all of it."
Carnac flushed indignantly. "I suppose I could, but it isn't big enough
for me. I'd rather do one picture that the Luxembourg or the London
National Gallery would buy than own this whole business. That's the turn
of my mind."
"Yes, but if you didn't sell a picture to the Luxembourg or the National
Gallery. What then?"
"I'd have a good try for it, that's all. Do you want me to give up Art
and take to commerce? Is that your view?"
"I suggested to John Grier the day that Fabian sold his share that you
might take his place; and I still think it a good thing, though, of
course, I like your painting. But I felt sorry for your father with none
of his own family to help him; and I thought you might stay with him for
your family's sake."
"You thought I'd be a martyr for love of John Grier--and cold cash, did
you? That isn't the way the blood runs in my veins.
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