"I have come to see you," I said, "before visiting the Louvre."
" You're quite right," she answered.
I brought a small painting, carefully packed, which was called _The Girl
of Grid._ She looked at it for at least fifteen minutes, and made no
comment whatever. After which we went up to the next storey, where for two
hours P showed me quantities of paintings. She kept going back and forth,
dragging out great canvases which she placed against the easel. The she
went to fetch others amongst an infinity of canvases which she placed
against the easel. Then she went to fetch others amongst an infinity of
canvases stacked in rows against the wall. I could see that she was going
to enormous trouble. At each new canvas she cast me a glance filled with a
vivacity and an intelligence so violent that it made me tremble. I left
without in turn having made the slightest comment. At the end, on the
landing of the stairs, just as I was about to leave we exchanged a
glance which meant exactly, "You get the idea?" .. .:.:~:. :.:~ .. .: ~:
"I get it!"
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