"You must have suffered horribly."
"Not very much.... I thought of other things."
"What did you think about?"
"A picture."
"How was that?"
"It was very simple. I had the head of my bed turned to the glass, so that, while the doctors were working at my back, I could see what they were doing when I raised myself on my elbows. Ah! if I could but recover, I swear I would make a noble sequel to André Vésale's study in anatomy! Only, my anatomical study would be taken from a living man."
This was the very scene which, two years later, Talma rehearsed before Adolphe and me, when he was in his bath.
Bro asked permission of the sick man for me to go upstairs and see his Méduse.
"Do what you like," said Géricault; "you are in your own house." And he went on drawing his hand.
I stood a long time before the marvellous picture, although I was at that time ignorant about art and unable to estimate it at its true worth. As I left the studio, I stepped upon an overturned canvas. I picked it up, looked at the right side of it and saw a wonderful head of a fallen angel: I gave it to Bro.