Artists in Crime Read Free Page B

times a day and struck a new attitude whenever she caught my eye. I had to pretend I’d got neuritis in my hand, which was a curse, as I rather wanted to do a head of one of the other passengers — a very paintable subject with plenty of good bone. However, I got down to it after Honolulu. The subject is a detective and looks like a grandee. Sounds like it, too — very old-world and chivalrous and so on. Damn! that looks like a cheap sneer, and it’s not meant to. I’m rather on the defensive about this sleuth — I was so filthily rude to him, and he took it like a gent and made me feel like a bounder. Very awkward. The head is fairly successful.
    Well, Katti, old lady, we meet on the 3rd. I’ll come straight to Tatler’s End. Best Love.
     
    Your ever,
    Troy.
     
    P.S. — Perhaps you’d better give Garcia a shakedown in the studio and lock him in. We’ll hope he’ll have gone by the 20th.
     
    Katti Bostock to Agatha Troy.
     
    Tatler’s End House,
    Bossicote,
    Bucks.
    August 14th.
    Dear Troy
,
    You are a gump to collect these bloodsuckers. Yes, I know Garcia is damn’ good at sculping, but he’s a nasty little animal, and thinks everyone else is born to keep him. God knows how much he’s got out of you already. All right, I’ll shut him up in the studio, but if he’s after Sonia or anyone else, he’ll crawl out by the ventilator. And if you imagine you’ll get rid of him before the 20th, you’re wandering. And who in the name of Bacchus is this Australian blight? You’re paying his fare Home, of course. Well, I suppose I can’t talk, as you’ve given me the run of your house for twelve months. It’s been a godsend, and I’ve done my best work here. Been working on a thing of two negro saxophonists, worm’s-eye view of, with cylindrical background. Not bad, I fancy. It’s finished now. I’ve started on a big thing, using that little devil Sonia Gluck. It’s a standing pose and she’s behaving abominably, blast her! However, she agreed to come next term for the usual exorbitant fee, as soon as she heard Garcia and Pilgrim were to be in the class. Malmsley arrived to-day. The beard is there all right, and looks like the Isle of Patmos gone decadent. He’s full of the book-illustration job, and showed me some of the sketches — quite good. I’ve met Pilgrim several times, and like him and his work. I hear he’s always to be seen with the Seacliff blight, so I suppose she’s after the title. That girl’s a nymphomaniac, and a successful one at that. Funny this “It” stuff. I’ve never inspired a thought that wasn’t respectable, and yet I get on with men all right. You’re different. They’d fall for you if you’d let them, only you’re so unprovocative they never know where they are, and end by taking you at your own valuation. The Seacliff and Pilgrim arrive to-morrow. I’ve seen Miss Phillida Lee. She’s very would-be Slade. Wears hand-printed clothes with high necks, and shudders and burbles alternately. She comes on the 9th, and so does Ormerin, who writes from Paris and sounds very depressed. Nice bloke. I don’t know whether it’s struck you what a rum brew the class will be this term. It’s impossible to keep Sonia in her place, wherever a model’s place may be. Garcia, if he’s here, will either be in full cry after her, which will be unpleasant, or else sick of her, which will be worse. Valmai Seacliff will naturally expect every male on the premises to be hot on her trail, and if that comes off, Sonia will got the pip. Perhaps with Basil Pilgrim on the tapis, the Seacliff will be less catholic, but I doubt it. Oh, well, you know your own business best, and I suppose will float through on the good old recipe of not noticing. You are such a bloody aristocrat. Your capacity for ignoring the unpleasant is a bit irritating to a plebeian like myself.
    The servants are all right. The two Hipkins and Sadie Welsh from the village. They only tolerate me and are thrilled over