And then he went into the shop.
“What is that picture?” said the man.
“That is the portrait of a lady,” said the proprietor.
“Who painted it?” said the man.
“Paul Gaspard,” said the proprietor.
“Is he well known?” said the man.
“He would have been—had he lived,” said the proprietor.
“Is he dead?” said the man.
“Yes,” said the proprietor, “he died six months ago, under peculiar circumstances.”
“Tell me about it,” said the man.