it was thus that, in the first impulse of
self-sacrifice, they left the Rue de Douai. What was the use of paying
two rents? There was room enough in the old drying-shed in the Rue
Tourlaque--still stained with the dyes of former days--to afford
accommodation for three people. Settling there was, nevertheless, a
difficult affair; for however big the place was, it provided them, after
all, with but one room. It was like a gipsy's shed, where everything had
to be done in common. As the landlord was unwilling, the painter himself
had to divide it at one end by a partition of boards, behind which
he devised a kitchen and a bedroom. They were then delighted with the
place, despite the chinks through which the wind blew, and although
on rainy days they had to set basins beneath the broader cracks in the
roof. The whole looked mournfully bare; their few poor sticks seemed to
dance alongside the naked walls. They themselves pretended to be proud
at being lodged so spaciously; they told their friends that Jacques
would at least have a little room to run about. Poor Jacques, in spite
of his nine years, did not seem to be growing; his head alone became
larger and larger. They could not send him to school for more than a
week at a stretch, for he came back absolutely dazed, ill from having
tried to learn, in such wise that they nearly always allowed him to live
on all fours around them, crawling from one corner to another.

Christine, who for quite a long while had not shared Claude's daily
work, now once more found herself beside him throughout his long hours
of toil. She helped him to scrape and pumice the old canvas of the big
picture, and gave him advice about attaching it more securely to the
wall. But they found that another disaster had befallen them--the steps
had become warped by the water constantly trickling through the roof,
and, for fear of an accident, Claude had to strengthen them with an oak
cross-piece, she handing him the necessary nails one by one. Then once
more, and for the second time, everything was ready. She watched him
again outlining the work, standing behind him the while, till she
felt faint with fatigue, and finally dropping to the floor, where she
remained squatting, and still looking at him.

Ah! how she would have liked to snatch him from that painting which had
seized hold of him! It was for that purpose that she made herself his
servant, only too happy to lower herself to a labourer's toil. Since s