"Yes, shipwrecked. A starving genius whom Alice has rescued. He writes prose poems, and recites them to music of his own, and he has written a whole series of dances for Alice. You'll see if we don't catch it after dinner!"
"And she is introducing him to the Kerrs! Now you see why we're here."
"I forgive him for existing. I pardon him for sitting next to me. I remit to him even the sins he's going to commit after dinner. I haven't seen you for months."
"No, you're too busy building neo-Renaissance houses for the newly rich. How's Alice's villa getting on?"
"Hush! She wants a waterfall in the middle of it."
"Well, you must get her one. I can't see why you should deny her a trifle like that."
At this point, Mrs. Kerr having found something to say to the Englishman, Mr. Blackley turned to Teresa.
"Well, how is Art?" he enquired.
"You ought to know. You live in the very hot-bed of it," said Teresa. "You raise it under glass."
He cast a glance about the room, and lowered his voice, taking Page into the talk by a look.
"Say, honestly, how d'ye like the house? I call it fierce—simply fierce. Of course, you know it's her house—a woman ought to have
