"I met Mrs. Baske at the Vatican this morning," said Mallard presently, as he knocked the ash off his cigar. "We had some talk."
"On Vatican subjects?"
"Yes. I find her views of art somewhat changed. But sculpture still alarms her."
"Still? Do you suppose she will ever overcome that feeling? Are you wholly free from it yourself? Imagine yourself invited to conduct a party of ladies through the marbles, and to direct their attention to the merits that strike you."
"No doubt I should invent an excuse. But it would be weakness."
"A weakness inseparable from our civilization. The nude in art is an anachronism."
"Pooh! That is encouraging the vulgar prejudice."
"No; it is merely stating a vulgar fact. These collections of nude figures in marble have only an historical interest. They are kept out of the way, in places which no one is obliged to visit. Modern work of that kind is tolerated, nothing more. What on earth is the good of an artistic production of which people in general are afraid to speak freely? You take your stand before the Venus of the Capitol; you bid the attendant make it revolve slowly, and you begin a lecture to your wife, your sister, or your young cousin, on the glories of the masterpiece. You point out in detail how admirably Praxiteles has exhibited every beauty of the female frame. Other ladies are standing by you smile blandly, and include them in your audience."
Mallard interrupted with a laugh.
"Well, why not?" continued the other. "This isn't the gabinetto at Naples, surely?"