at has made you so cynical? Denham.
Er learn to be an _artist_, Denham? The modern picture should be a painted quatrain, with colours for words--words which say nothing, because everything has been said, but which _suggest_ all that has been felt and dreamed. Art is the initiation into a mood, a mystery--a sphinx whose riddle every one can answer, yet no one understand. Fitzgerald. (_shutting the book on his finger_) Bravo, Vane! 'Pon my word, I begin to believe in you. Vane. I can endure even that. Denham. I am on the wrong tack then? Vane. My dear fellow, look at that canvas. What a method! You are like an amateur pianist who tries laboriously to obtain tone, without having mastered the keyboard. One cannot _blunder_ into great art. Only Englishmen make the attempt. You are a nation of amateurs. (_He turns away, and sees a sketch on the_ L _wall_) Did you do this? Denham. My brush did it somehow. Vane. Ah! this is exquisite--or would be if you could paint. Why, _why_ not learn the technique of your art, and make these notes of a mood, a moment, so as to give real delight? Denham. Upon my word, Vane, you are right. That sketch is worth a wilderness of Brynhilds. But look here! (_Crosses to picture. He opens a pocket knife, and makes a long cut across the figure of Brynhild._) There goes a year's work. Fitzgerald. (_rising_) By Jove! Vane. My dear fellow, I congratulate you. The year's work is not thrown away--now. (_Re-enter Mrs. Denham_) Mrs. Denham. Oh, Mr. Vane, what have you made him do? Vane. My dear Mrs Denham, I have saved your husband's reputation for a few months at least. He cannot do anything so _consummately_ bad in _less_. Pray, pray, do not try to understand art! Women never can; they have not yet developed the sixth sense--the sense of _Beauty_. But I must really tear myself away. (_Mrs. Denham sits gloomily on throne, ignoring Vane._) Denham. Won't you stay and have some tea? Vane. Thanks, no. Lady Mayfair made me promise to go and hear her new tenor. One knows what one has to expect, but one goes. (_Enter Jane, showing in Miss Macfarlane._) Jane. Miss Macfarlane! (_Miss Macfarlane shakes hands with Mr
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