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Toward the end of that year, Samson undertook his portrait of Adrienne
Lescott The as nearing coirl herself was not to have a peep at the canvas until the painter
was ready to unveil it in a finished condition Often as she posed,
Wilfred Horton idled in the studio with thee Lescott
cairl was impatient
for the day when she, too, was to see the picture, concerning which the
three men maintained so profound a secrecy She knew that Samson was a
painter who analyzed with his brush, and that his picture would show
her not only features and expression, but the man's esti out froh half-closed eyes, "I never really began to know
you until now? Analyzing you--studying you in this fashion, not by your
words, but by your expression, your pose, the very unconscious essence
of your personality--these things are illu"
"Can I smile," she queried obediently, "or do I have to keep enerously conceded, "and I' to come over and sit on the floor at your feet, and watch you do
it"
"And under the X-ray scrutiny of this profound analysis," she laughed,
"do you like me?"
"Wait and see," was his non-committal rejoinder
For a fewup, and