He seemed so contrite that Thea smiled and replied,
“Maybe it is I who should apologise for interrupting you when you are painting anything so beautiful.”
“I was cross because I could not capture it,” the artist admitted. “How can I depict the dancing lights on the water and the mystery of the trees?”
Thea stared at him in astonishment.
It was exactly what she thought herself, but nobody else had ever said it to her before.
“May I look at your painting?” she asked him.
The artist spread out his hands.
“I am honoured that you should do so. At the same time I am well aware that I am an inadequate painter.”
Thea moved closer to his easel.
She could see at first glance that the painting was very different from any of the pictures hanging on the walls of The Palace.
It was not in any
