or two and then cabbed it home to the studio, where Chloë had a model waiting for her. Did I tell you that Chloë painted? I don't believe I did. Hitherto she had only done it fitfully, but now that she was married she intended to make it her job in life. It is essential for a married woman to have an occupation; otherwise she tends to become the slave of her home. Chloë had no intention of turning into an unsalaried cook-parlourmaid.
So as soon as they were under their own roof the bride set to work upon her model, a youngish but excessively ugly and angular Scotch woman called Mrs. Mackay, who was at the moment enjoying a considerable vogue. Chloë posed her on all fours. We needn't linger in the studio. Let us accompany Dunkle to Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.
