At 1 o’clock I thanked him profusely for sitting so long and so well, and he seemed quite surprised at my stopping, and said: “You have done with me?”
I explained that I had to catch a train, so, having swallowed a fish and some plums, I rushed down the alley to my taxi, pursued by Rigamonti who abandoned his marble chisel and carried my suit-case and hurled in some last things to me. I just caught the 1.50 at Waterloo, for Godalming, to stay two days with the Midletons.[1]
August 21st.
I got back to the studio about midday to find a huge bunch of roses and the following note from Kameneff:—
London, 21 Août.
Chère Madame,
Je vous prie la permission de mettre ces roses rouges aux pieds de votre belle statue de la Victoire.
Bien à vous,
L. K.
I did so, and when he came at about 4 o’clock to sit, I thanked him, but said that they were not red and that it was a pity. He looked as if he didn’t quite understand, and said: “Yes, they are red—red for the blood of Victory.” The sentiment was right, but he is colour blind, the roses were pink! I did not argue.
At about 5 o’clock S—— L——, walked in unexpectedly, and was very surprised and interested to find Kameneff, who was no less interested at hearing from S—— L—— that Archbishop Mannix is his guest, and I got a good innings at my work while these two talked together.