In the Days of My Youth: A Novel

by Amelia B. Edwards

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur," said he. "Did you speak?'

"Yes, Monsieur. I did speak. I repeat that you shall not take my portrait."

"Your portrait, Monsieur?"

"Yes, my portrait!"

"But, Monsieur," remonstrated the artist, with an air of mingled candor and surprise, "I never dreamed of taking your portrait!"

"Sacre non!" shouted the old gentleman, with another rap of the umbrella. "I saw you do it! Everybody saw you do It!"

"Nay, if Monsieur will but do me the honor to believe that I was simply sketching from nature, as the train...."

"An impudent subterfuge, sir!" interrupted the old gentleman. "An impudent subterfuge, and nothing less!"

Müller drew himself up with immense dignity.

"Monsieur," he said, haughtily, "that is an expression which I must request you to retract. I have already assured you, on the word of a gentleman...."