o she was, how they had met each other, and what had led
them to start housekeeping together, and he seemed to be surprised
when his friend asked him why they did not get married. In faith,
why? Because they had never even spoken about it, because they would
certainly be neither more nor less happy; in short it was a matter of no
consequence whatever.

'Well,' said the other, 'it makes no difference to me; but, if she was a
good and honest girl when she came to you, you ought to marry her.'

'Why, I'll marry her whenever she likes, old man. Surely I don't mean to
leave her in the lurch!'

Sandoz then began to marvel at the studies hanging on the walls. Ha, the
scamp had turned his time to good account! What accuracy of colouring!
What a dash of real sunlight! And Claude, who listened to him,
delighted, and laughing proudly, was just going to question him about
the comrades in Paris, about what they were all doing, when Christine
reappeared, exclaiming: 'Make haste, the eggs are on the table.'

They lunched in the kitchen, and an extraordinary lunch it was; a dish
of fried gudgeons after the boiled eggs; then the beef from the soup of
the night before, arranged in salad fashion, with potatoes, and a red
herring. It was delicious; there was the pungent and appetising smell
of the herring which Melie had upset on the live embers, and the song
of the coffee, as it passed, drop by drop, into the pot standing on the
range; and when the dessert appeared--some strawberries just gathered,
and a cream cheese from a neighbour's dairy--they gossiped and gossiped
with their elbows squarely set on the table. In Paris? Well, to tell the
truth, the comrades were doing nothing very original in Paris. And yet
they were fighting their way, jostling each other in order to get first
to the front. Of course, the absent ones missed their chance; it was as
well to be there if one did not want to be altogether forgotten. But
was not talent always talent? Wasn't a man always certain to get on
with strength and will? Ah! yes, it was a splendid dream to live in the
country, to accumulate masterpieces, and then, one day, to crush Paris
by simply opening one's trunks.

In the evening, when Claude accompanied Sandoz to the station, the
latter said to him:

'That reminds me, I wanted to tell you something. I think I am going to
get married.'

The painter burst out laughing.

'Ah, you wag, now I understand why you gave me a lecture this mornin