Capitolo 2
beings are thick as reeds of river.
This way inside the small humanity of compass it is here: the cathedral, the hospital,
the school of art and a strip of nature and a wide public road long that,
with their vibration of hearth-fires capriciously under their curtains of stone,
life is camped without rest, cheerful, heavy-hearted the Gypsies.
* * * * *
It was Monday morning and it was nine. Above to the National one
Academy of Sketch, in a superior room the members of one of the women
classes of portrait were assembled, ready to start job. Easels had been
drawn in position; a clear light from the last blue sky of
April made straw-covered bottle the open roof on cloths new insureds to the
frames. And it poured down generously on young intelligent faces. The
scene was a beautiful, and it was complete except in the one detail:
the teacher of the class was losing--the teacher and a model.
Minutes passed without its arrival, and when he finally entered the
lodgings, he advanced two or three footsteps and it made a break as if he meant
to the moment to go out again. After his/her calm and usual good-morning with his
sober smile, he gave to his/her listeners you watch over the sign to an unusual
situation:
"I said the class that to-day we should start a fresh study. I didn't have
me decided what should be this. Many models were in any reserve
one of whom could be used to advantage to this last stage of
the course of the year. They happened then the unexpected ones: Saturday an extraneous,
a woman, came to see me and churches to be busy. It is this model that me
you/he/she is waiting in down-steps."
Their thoughts immediately passed to the model: his/her impressive way, his
respectful words, ran over him with mystery, with charm. His
expression illuminated above with marvelous interest as him followed:
"You are not a professional; she has never placed. In to ask to me to hock
his/her she offered as soon as the explanation that she seemed to feel himself/herself/themselves due