“It’s all I think about,” she admitted. “I even got up in the middle of the night last night and went over there to paint.” She knew as soon as the words left her mouth that she should have kept her nighttime foray to herself. She was too tired to think clearly, and the three of them stared at her as if they’d misheard.

“You did?” Miss Myrtle said finally. “When was this?”

“Oh, around three this morning.” She shrugged as though it had been nothing. “I was just itching to paint.”

“Women can’t stay out all night unchaperoned like that,” Miss Myrtle said. “Maybe up north they do, but it’s not the way we do things here, dear.”

Anna was so tired of hearing that sentiment. “It wasn’t ‘all night,’” she said, carefully holding on to her smile. “Think of it as early morning.”

“People will talk if they know you’re out at all hours like that,” Pauline said.

Pauline and her talkative people, Anna thought. But even Freda disapproved. The maid had brought another basket of her biscuits into the room, and she caught Anna’s eye as she set them on the table and shook her head. Her silent two cents.

“Seriously, Anna,” Karl said. “You could have an accident driving late at night and no one would know. It’s not a good idea. At the very least, you need to let folks know your whereabouts.”

“All right.” Anna gave in with a sigh. She was sorry she’d brought it up. “It probably was silly of me, anyway. I ended up so tired this afternoon I fell asleep with my head on my worktable. I often wish I had a little settee or something like it at the warehouse. All I needed was half an hour’s shut-eye and I was ready to go again.”

“You artistic types are so intense!” Pauline said. “I wish I had some of your drive.”

Karl rested his hand on hers. “You’re perfect just the way you are, dear,” he said.

Pauline glowed at the compliment and Anna felt that niggling bit of envy again. Pauline was so lucky to have him.

“You know, we actually have a cot you could borrow,” Pauline said. “You could keep it at the warehouse and take a catnap in the afternoon any time you like.”

“It’s hardly a settee.” Karl chuckled at his wife’s suggestion.

“True,” Pauline said, “but better than your worktable.”

“I suppose,” Karl said. He looked at Anna. “It’s just an old army cot,” he said. “It was my father’s and we use it for camping, though I doubt I’ll be able to get this one camping again any time soon.” He smiled at his wife.