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It has all the qualities I have enumerated, and yet it falls short of Hals. It has not the breadth and scope of the great Dutchman. There is a sense of effort, on sent le souffle, and in Hals one never does. It is more bound together, it does not flow with the mighty and luminous ease of the chefs d'oeuvre at Haarlem. But is this Manet's final achievement, the last word he has to say? I think not.
The conception of that apathy, grandiose in itself and marvellous in its persistence, was due to unknown poets that had in them the true souffle of the real ideal. But that also demanded a climax. They produced it in the theory that the afflictions of this life are due to transgressions in another. From afflictions death, they taught, is not a release, for the reason that there is no death.
Clean them first of all, chop them, and cook them till tender in butter; and their own juice; then throw them into the sauce, and pour it over your souffle. Make a thick bechamel sauce, and be sure that you cook it for ten minutes, constantly stirring. Add, till well flavored, some Gruyere and Parmesan cheese, mixed and grated. Let it all get cold.
Get everything in readiness before beginning to make the souffle. Select a bowl, perfectly clean, and arrange the star tube and pastry bag, if you are going to use one. If not, get out a baking dish. Sift six tablespoonfuls of powdered sugar. Separate six eggs. Beat the whites until they are very stiff but not dry or broken. Now add three tablespoonfuls of the sifted powdered sugar.
"It is an art to eat like this," said Morrison, more than half seriously, after he had taken the first mouthful of the golden soufflé which ended the meal. "What a May we have had!
He had been faithful to his principles, finished the bottle before touching the sweet a good bottle of a good brand! And now for the souffle! Delicious, flipped down with the old sherry! So that holy woman was going to a ball, was she! How deuced funny! Who would dance with a dry stick like that, all eaten up with a piety which was just sexual disappointment?
And his sacrifice of the uneaten souffle, the still less eaten mushrooms, the peppermint sweet with which he usually concluded dinner, seemed to consecrate that purpose. They all thought he was a hulk, without a shot left in the locker! He had seen a couple of them at the Board that afternoon shrugging at each other, as though saying: 'Look at him! And young Farney pitying him. Pity, forsooth!
Nor was there gelatine in stock, with which to make a gay-colored, wobbly jelly. As for prune soufflé, he could make that easily enough. But the longshoreman did not want to lay eyes on another prune soufflé before Washington's Birthday, at least, and the natal anniversary of the Father of His Country was still a long way off. Apple fritters, then? But they took apples.
I eyed these bowls wolfishly, and, though it returned to me in dreams, at that time it seemed a small matter that at the end of the arms that lowered one towards me were not hands, but a sort of flap and thumb, like the end of an elephant's trunk. The stuff in the bowl was loose in texture, and whitish brown in colour rather like lumps of some cold souffle, and it smelt faintly like mushrooms.
"I'll call up the station while the girls are upstairs and then Betty shall call the Willard, or you do it for her, and then perhaps we can eat dinner before the souffle is quite ruined." The girls took Betty upstairs to a luxurious suite of rooms they shared, and when she had bathed her face and hands and brushed her hair, they came down to find that Mr.