she was talking to him like
that. And at sight of his stupor, the shuddering of a man surprised in
a debauch, she flew into a still greater passion; she mounted the steps,
tore the candlestick from his hand, and in her turn flashed the light in
front of the picture.

'Just look!' she cried, 'just tell me how you have improved matters?
It's hideous, it's lamentable and grotesque; you'll end by seeing so
yourself. Come, isn't it ugly, isn't it idiotic? You see very well that
you are conquered, so why should you persist any longer? There is no
sense in it, that's what upsets me. If you can't be a great painter,
life, at least, remains to us. Ah! life, life!'

She had placed the candle on the platform of the steps, and as he had
gone down, staggering, she sprang off to join him, and they both found
themselves below, he crouching on the last step, and she pressing his
inert, dangling hands with all her strength.

'Come, there's life! Drive your nightmare away, and let us live, live
together. Isn't it too stupid, to be we two together, to be growing old
already, and to torture ourselves, and fail in every attempt to find
happiness? Oh! the grave will take us soon enough, never fear. Let's try
to live, and love one another. Remember Bennecourt! Listen to my dream.
I should like to be able to take you away to-morrow. We would go far
from this cursed Paris, we would find a quiet spot somewhere, and you
would see how pleasant I would make your life; how nice it would be
to forget everything together! Of a morning there are strolls in the
sunlight, the breakfast which smells nice, the idle afternoon, the
evening spent side by side under the lamp! And no more worrying about
chimeras, nothing but the delight of living! Doesn't it suffice that I
love you, that I adore you, that I am willing to be your servant, your
slave, to exist solely for your pleasures? Do you hear, I love you, I
love you? there is nothing else, and that is enough--I love you!'

He had freed his hands, and making a gesture of refusal, he said, in a
gloomy voice:

'No, it is not enough! I _won't_ go away with you, I _won't_ be happy, I
_will paint_!'

'And I shall die of it, eh? And you will die of it, and we shall end by
leaving all our blood and all our tears in it! There's nothing beyond
Art, that is the fierce almighty god who strikes us with his thunder,
and whom you honour! he may crush us, since he is the master, and you
will still bless his name!'