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Updated: May 15, 2025
To me it's first of all a landscape, dwindling away in the distance; a bit of melancholy road, with the shadow of a tree that one cannot see; and then a woman passes along, scarcely a silhouette; on she goes and you never meet her again, no, never more again. Just at that moment, however, Fagerolles exclaimed, 'I say, Gagniere, what are you going to send to the Salon this year?
One never saw him now. Dubuche asserted all sorts of things about him. There had been a row between Fagerolles and Mahoudeau on the subject whether evening dress was a thing to be reproduced in sculpture. Then on the previous Sunday Gagniere had returned home from a Wagner concert with a black eye.
One of them wanted to start a discussion about a number of idiotic pictures that had lately been hung in the Luxembourg Museum; but there was only one opinion on the subject, that the pictures were not worth their frames. Thereupon they left off conversing; they smoked, merely exchanging a word or a significant smile now and then. 'Well, asked Claude at last, 'are we going to wait for Gagniere?
Then having taken leave of the Margaillans at the door, with a deal of handshaking and bows, he came towards his friends, and said straightway to Sandoz, Fagerolles, and Gagniere: 'What would you have? It isn't my fault I warned him that the public would not understand him. It's improper; yes, you may say what you like, it's improper.
Claude grew passionate, and Christine had to give her opinion and to pronounce judgment on all sorts of matters. Was not Gagniere an idiot for stultifying his brain with music, he who might have developed so conscientious a talent as a landscape painter? It was said that he was now taking lessons on the piano from a young lady the idea, at his age! What did she, Christine, think of it?
Thereupon, both very grave, like people of society who are forced somewhat over-promptly into familiarity, Mathilde and Mahoudeau shook hands. Only, as soon as the latter had got rid of the job and had found Gagniere in a corner of the drawing-room, they both began sneering and recalling, in terrible language, all the abominations of yore.
You can imagine the state of affairs; the dealer accuses the artist of having spoilt his game by exhibiting with the vanity of a giddy fool; while the painter replies that he doesn't mean to be robbed any longer; and they'll end by devouring each other at least, I hope so. Gagniere raised his voice, the gentle but inexorable voice of a dreamer just awakened. 'Fagerolles is done for.
'I am going to shut up, sir, repeated the waiter. Claude, who no longer listened, he also being absorbed in his own passion, emptied his glass of beer and cried: 'Eh, old man, they are going to shut up. Then Gagniere trembled. A painful twitch came over his ecstatic face, and he shivered as if he had dropped from the stars.
But she seems to retain a weakness for painters, and every now and then drops into the Cafe Baudequin to look up old friends! Irma had now seen them, and was making gestures from afar. They could but go to her. When Gagniere, with his light hair and little beardless face, turned round, looking more grotesque than over, he did not show the least surprise at finding them there.
'Suppose she lays a place for Dubuche, while she is about it, said Claude. 'He told me he would perhaps come. But they were all down upon Dubuche, who frequented women in society. Jory said that he had seen him in a carriage with an old lady and her daughter, whose parasols he was holding on his knees. 'Where have you come from to be so late? asked Fagerolles of Gagniere.
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