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two pictures, and he thought he could paint as well as Fla-
nagan. He had worked so hard on the portrait that he could
not help feeling it must have merit. It was true that when he
looked at it he felt that there was something wrong, though
he could not tell what; but when he was away from it his
spirits went up and he was not dissatisfied. He sent it to the
Salon and it was refused. He did not mind much, since he
had done all he could to persuade himself that there was
little chance that it would be taken, till Flanagan a few days
later rushed in to tell Lawson and Philip that one of his pic-
tures was accepted. With a blank face Philip offered his
congratulations, and Flanagan was so busy congratulating
himself that he did not catch the note of irony which Phil-
ip could not prevent from coming into his voice. Lawson,
quicker-witted, observed it and looked at Philip curiously.
His own picture was all right, he knew that a day or two be-
fore, and he was vaguely resentful of Philip’s attitude. But
he was surprised at the sudden question which Philip put
him as soon as the American was gone.
‘If you were in my place would you chuck the whole
thing?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I wonder if it’s worth while being a second-rate painter.
You see, in other things, if you’re a doctor or if you’re in
business, it doesn’t matter so much if you’re mediocre. You
make a living and you get along. But what is the good of
turning out second-rate pictures?’
Lawson was fond of Philip and, as soon as he thought he
was seriously distressed by the refusal of his picture, he set

0 Of Human Bondage