“You look very tired,” I said.
“Yes,” he replied, with a sigh. It was at the private view of the
Academy. “But I shall get some rest now. It is all over for a while.”
“What is over?” I asked.
“My work,” he said. “It does not begin again with any seriousness till
next February; but it goes on then till April with terrific vigour.” He
pressed his hand to his brow.
“May I know what it is?” I inquired.
“Of course,” he said. “I name pictures for the Exhibitions. The
catalogues are full of my work. Here, for example, is one of my most
effective titles: ‘Cold flows the Winter river.’ Not bad, is it?”