I took my hat and ran out. I thought of Delacroix's Marino Faliero. I crossed bridges, I climbed the one hundred and seventeen steps to Delacroix's studio, who then lived on the quai Voltaire, and I fell into his studio utterly breathless.
"Hullo!" he said to me. "Why the deuce do you come upstairs so fast?"
"I have good news to give you."
"Good!" exclaimed Delacroix; "what is it?"
"I have come to buy your Marino Faliero."
"Ah!" he said, sounding more vexed than pleased.
"What! Are you not delighted!"
"Do you want to buy it for yourself?"
"If it were for myself, what would the price be?"
"Whatever you like to give me: two thousand francs, fifteen hundred francs, one thousand francs."