“If it would be agreeable to you, come.”
M. Saval accepted the invitation with enthusiasm, reflecting:
“I shall have time enough to see Henri VIII.”
Both of them had finished their meal. The notary insisted on paying the two bills, wishing to repay his neighbor's civilities. He also paid for the drinks of the young fellows in red velvet; then he left the establishment with the painter.
They stopped in front of a very long, low house, the first story having the appearance of an interminable conservatory. Six studios stood in a row with their fronts facing the boulevards.
Romantin was the first to enter, and, ascending the stairs, he opened a door, and lighted a match and then a candle.
They found themselves in an immense apartment, the furniture of which consisted of three chairs, two easels, and a few sketches standing on the ground along the walls. M. Saval remained standing at the door somewhat astonished.
The painter remarked:
“Here you are! we've got to the spot; but everything has yet to be done.”
Then, examining the high, bare apartment, its ceiling disappearing in the darkness, he said: