Just as he had promised, George returned quickly to the studio. But Dot grew discouraged as he walked past without even acknowledging her presence, and straight into his workplace.

Typical, Dot thought.

She quickly followed after him.

"George, I think we need to have a word with each other…"

"Dot, I am busy. You know I do not like to be bothered while painting."

"When are you not painting?" Dot snapped.

George put down his brush, surprised at her anger.

"You know of my dedication to this work."

"What about your dedication to me? I can't keep modeling for someone who sees me as no more than a model!"

Tears began to fill Dot's eyes. She had rehearsed this in her mind countless times before George walked through the door, so she didn't understand why such strong emotions were coming over her.

"Dot…look at that woman. Who is it?" he said, pointing to a woman in a violet dress, holding a monkey by a thin leash.

"It's me." she sighed.

"Exactly. Do you notice that this woman is the main focus of the painting? Do you notice the particular attention to detail in her smile? In her hat? Her dress? There is a reason for all this, Dot. You should shine as much as you do in your heart."

Listening to his words, Dot began to fall apart. She hadn't expected George to open up to her the way he had just then. The brick wall that kept Dot from seeing into his soul had been broken, allowing her to see how much he really cared for her. He smiled to her, then put the barrier back up, returning to his painting.