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M. Saval accepted the invitation with enthusiasm, reflecting: "I shall have time enough to see Henri VIII." Both of them had finished their meal. The notary insisted on paying the two bills, wishing to repay his neighbor's civilities. He also paid for the drinks of the young fellows in red velvet; then he left the establishment with the painter.
The air was balmy, charged with the odors of fresh vegetation; they drank it in with delight. How pleasant everything was on that day! After lunch, Sandres went to sleep on the broad of his back. "The best nap he had in his life," said he, when he woke up. Madame Sandres had taken the arm of Saval, and they started to walk along the river bank. She leaned tenderly on his arm.
"You can't imagine what a collection of fictitious titles are met in this lair," said Servigny, "By the way, I shall present you by the name of Count Saval; plain Saval would not do at all." "Oh, no, indeed!" cried his friend; "I would not have anyone think me capable of borrowing a title, even for an evening, even among those people. Ah, no!" Servigny began to laugh. "How stupid you are!
Have a good time, gentlemen, the house is yours." And she left them to go to those who had come later, throwing at Saval that smiling and fleeting glance which women use to show that they are pleased. Servigny grasped his friend's arm. "I will pilot you," said he. "In this parlor where we now are, women, the temples of the fleshly, fresh or otherwise.
At last, the dancing ceased. M. Saval said: "Gentlemen " A tall young fellow, fair-haired and bearded to the nose, interrupted him: "What's your name, my friend?" The notary, quite scared, said: "I am M. Saval." A voice exclaimed: "You mean Baptiste." A woman said: "Let the poor waiter alone! You'll end by making him get angry. He's paid to wait on us, and not to be laughed at by us."
They found themselves in an immense apartment, the furniture of which consisted of three chairs, two easels, and a few sketches standing on the ground along the walls. M. Saval remained standing at the door somewhat astonished. The painter remarked: "Here you are! we've got to the spot; but everything has yet to be done."
You will be very sensible, very nice; you will remain quietly waiting for me in bed, and I'll come back as soon as it's over." She murmured: "Yes, but you will not begin over again?" "No, I swear to you!" He turned towards M. Saval, who had at last hooked on the chandelier: "My dear friend, I am coming back in five minutes. If anyone arrives in my absence, do the honors for me, will you not?"
You could see that they were almost bald; and they drank beer like men. M. Saval sat down at some distance from them and waited, for the hour for taking absinthe was at hand. A tall young man soon came in and took a seat beside him. The landlady called him M. "Romantin." The notary quivered. Was this the Romantin who had taken a medal at the last Salon? The young man made a sign to the waiter.
M. Saval questioned him as to all the men he was going to receive, adding: "It would be an extraordinary piece of good fortune for a stranger to meet at one time so many celebrities assembled in the studio of an artist of your rank." Romantin, vanquished, replied: "If it would be agreeable to you, come."
Saval, too, appeared serious and absorbed. From time to time he stroked his pointed beard, trimmed in the fashion of Henri III., and seemed to be meditating on the most profound subjects. Nobody spoke for several minutes. Then as they were serving the trout, Servigny remarked: "Silence is a good thing, at times.
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