III.

She also painted:  one could tell her pictures mid a billion,
So daubed were they with ochre blots and splashes of vermilion;
She claimed to be a connoisseur of objets d’art and curios,
But what attracted notice was her openwork and lury hose,
Fashioned in every colour from magenta down to cinnabar,
Suggestive of a rainbow or the various liquors in a bar.

IV.

So when she came to twenty-one, the age they call discretional,
The trooping of her followers was, in a word, processional.

V.

But she disdained flamboyant types and snubbed the gay and gildy brand;
Instead she loved a decadent whose pagan name was Hildebrand,
Until that sad occasion when she met him coming back o’ night,
His system loaded up with bhang and opium and aconite.

VI.

An artist next attracted her; she turned on her cajoleries,
And soon in unison they laughed at other people’s drolleries;
His speech was polychromous (as the speech of many a carman is);
He mostly talked of masses, lights, half-tones and colour-harmonies;
That was his doom, for one fine day he went to his sarcophagus,
The word “chiaroscuro” stuck deep down in his oesophagus.

VII.

I do not know; it may have been her hose that took poor Rendall in,
Who previously had flirted with her elder sister, Gwendoline. 
This Rendall was a wholesale dealer, very rich and large in all
His habits, though he always said his profits were but marginal. 
Well, Rendall kept on waddling round her, like a tired and tardy yak;
His movements showed beyond a doubt that his disease was cardiac;
He took her on the river; after thinking for a time, aloud
He said, “I will propose to you; that is, of course, if I’m allowed.”

VIII.

And she replied, “If I were going to propose, I’m blest if I
Would personate an elder who is just about to testify. 
Now first of all I must remark that Love has come to grip you late
In life, but, passing over that, I’ve certain things to stipulate: 
You must exhibit interest, as even Goth or Vandal would,
In curios and bric-a-brac, in ivories and sandalwood;
And you must cope with cameo, veneer, relief and lacquer (Ah! 
And, parenthetically, pay my debts at bridge and baccarat). 
I dote on Futurism, and so a mate would give me little ease
Whose views were strictly orthodox on MYRON and PRAXITELES. 
You do not understand,” she sneered, “so gross is your fatuity;
Well then, I answer ‘No,’ without a trace of ambiguity.”

IX.

And Rendall turned back sad at heart; but in a stride his honey-bee
Was in his arms exclaiming, “Then would wasted all your money be. 
Come, I will take you with your faults and try to make the best of you;
Your purse is good; perhaps in time I may improve the rest of you.”