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The critical moment in Cézanne's life if in such a life one moment may without impertinence be thought more critical than another must have come somewhere about 1870. M. Vollard once asked him what he did during the war. "Ecoutez un peu, monsieur Vollard! Pendant la guerre j'ai beaucoup travaillé sur le motif
Monsieur de Camors is not of our monde, nor is the Enfant du Siecle; indeed, perhaps good Monsieur Sylvestre Bonnard is as sympathetic as anyone in that populous country of modern French romance. Or do you know Fifi Vollard? Something must be allowed for strange manners, for exotic ideas, and ways not our own.
Réalisé Cézanne's incessant complaint that "he was unable to realize" has been taken by many stupid people to imply that Cézanne was conscious in himself of some peculiar and slightly humiliating inhibition from which his fellows were free; and even M. Vollard has thought it necessary to be continually apologizing for and explaining away the phrase, which, moreover, he never does explain.
"Of course, sir, of course, but am I to say nothing to the Count?" "He is away, I know not where. I desire the secret to be kept punctiliously." "Yes, sir, on one condition." "A condition? And what may that be?" "It is that, like your father, you will call me Mamma Caraman not Madame!" Sanselme rushed from the Maison Vollard. He seemed half wild with grief and rage. Where was he going?
At Aix he tried to pass for a respectable rentier; he found no difficulty in being silly, but he could not achieve the necessary commonplaceness. He could not be vulgar. He was always an artist. Instead of telling us so much about Zola and tutti quanti M. Vollard might have told us more about Cézanne's artistic development. What, for instance, is the history of his relations with Impressionism?
"Then you tell me, at least, what has occurred," said Madame Vollard, turning to Melosan. "Later on, later on. The young lady is excited and needs rest." "Oh, I will give her some drops," said the good-hearted lady, "I " "Good-night, Madame Vollard," said the secretary, and taking a light from the lady's hands, he hurried up the stairs with Jane. The young girl sank back in a chair exhausted.
"Good-night," said the young girl, cordially, and then the door closed behind Melosan. As the secretary was about to go to his room, Madame Vollard intercepted him on the stairs. "Well, how goes it?" she asked; "has the poor child recovered?" "Yes, thank you." "What occurred?" "She was almost burned to death; her dress had already caught fire." "What a lucky accident "
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