The young man moved a little away. He picked up a small book and
mechanically turned the leaves.
The older man eyed him keenly.
"Don't mind me, Zarato." He said it kindly, and laid a hand on the young
man's shoulder. "I have no right to say anything against her--except
that she's a somewhat fickle woman," he added dryly.
The young man's eyes were fixed on the page before him. He held it out,
pointing to a name scrawled on the margin.
Titian took it in his hands, holding it gently, and turning it so that
the light fell on the rich binding. "A treasure!" he said
enthusiastically.
The young man nodded. "An Aldine--I saw that. What does the marking
mean?" He asked the question almost rudely.
His companion turned the leaves. "It's a bacchanal for the Duke," he
said slowly.... "I've been looking up Violante's pose.--Here it is." He
read the lines in a musical voice.
A heavy frown had come between the handsome eyes watching him. "You'll
not paint her like that?"
"I rather think I shall," responded Titian slowly. "She has promised."
"And Giorgione?"
"Giorgione lets her do as she likes. He trusts her--as I do." He laid
his hand again on the shoulder near him. "I tell you, man, you're wrong.
Believe in her and--leave her," he said significantly.
The shoulder shrugged itself slightly away. The young man picked up his
hat from the table near by. He raised it courteously before he dropped
it with a little laugh on the dark curls.
"I go to an appointment," he said.