He sat for a long time, mixing colors on his palette with his palette knife. There was red and ocher there, but the paint he was mixing was mostly white, to which he added daubs of black, working them together slowly and carefully, the silver diamond of the knife flashing in the grey paint.
“Sir?” I began.
He looked up at me, his knife stilled.
“I have seen you paint sometimes without the model being here. Could you not paint the earring without me wearing it?”
The palette knife remained still. “You would like me to imagine you wearing the pearl, and paint what I imagine?”
“Yes, sir.”
He looked down at the paint, the palette knife moving again. I think he smiled a little. “I want to see you wear the earring.”
“But you know what will happen then, sir.”
“I know the painting will be complete.”