Луна и грош

Chapter XIX

           CharlesStrickland.AnEnglishman."

           "HehadnobeardwhenIknewhim,butifhehasgrownoneitmightwellbered.ThemanI’mthinkingofonlybeganpaintingfiveyearsago."

           "That’sit.He’sagreatartist."

           "Impossible."

           "HaveIeverbeenmistaken?"Dirkaskedme."Itellyouhehasgenius.I’mconvincedofit.Inahundredyears,ifyouandIarerememberedatall,itwillbebecauseweknewCharlesStrickland."

           Iwasastonished,andatthesametimeIwasverymuchexcited.Irememberedsuddenlymylasttalkwithhim.

           "Wherecanoneseehiswork?"Iasked."Ishehavinganysuccess?Whereisheliving?"

           "No;hehasnosuccess.Idon’tthinkhe’seversoldapicture.Whenyouspeaktomenabouthimtheyonlylaugh.ButIknowhe’sagreatartist.Afterall,theylaughedatManet.Corotneversoldapicture.Idon’tknowwherehelives,butIcantakeyoutoseehim.HegoestoacafeintheAvenuedeClichyatseveno’clockeveryevening.Ifyoulikewe’llgothereto-morrow."

           "I’mnotsureifhe’llwishtoseeme.IthinkImayremindhimofatimehepreferstoforget.ButI’llcomeallthesame.Isthereanychanceofseeinganyofhispictures?"

           "Notfromhim.Hewon’tshowyouathing.There’salittledealerIknowwhohastwoorthree.Butyoumustn’tgowithoutme;youwouldn’tunderstand.Imustshowthemtoyoumyself."

           "Dirk,youmakemeimpatient,"saidMrs.Stroeve."Howcanyoutalklikethatabouthispictureswhenhetreatedyouashedid?"Sheturnedtome

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