"I am glad you think so," she murmured as she watched him work. Of course, she could not see his work, just the easel and the back of the canvas. "One day I will be free of the Diamond Pony," she said almost too softly, "that perhaps I might be free to let you paint me whenever you wish." And that maybe you would look at me like a woman and not a model, she thought a little bitterly. Working on her back was so tiresome and taxing. Well, not when she was modeling, anyway.