“I have joined a studio—Melmenotte’s. I want to do a lot at the nude. I will sell my studies as I go on. A student there told me it was quite easy to live by pot-boiling, but I am going to have a great work in hand. How can a man work leading the life we lead? The other morning, just as I was settling down to a picture, Valfray came and dragged me off to that cock-fight at Chantilly. I got a blouse yesterday for six francs. Come in here, I want to see Pelisson; he is sure to be here at this hour.”
They entered a café on the Boulevard des Capucines, and there sure enough sat Pelisson; he had finished his déjeuner and was reading letters.
“How’s Pantin?” asked Gaillard.
“Blooming, or going to bloom. I am besieged with firms who want to advertise.”
“Have you fixed on your editor?”
“De Nani”
“What!” asked Gaillard in a horrified voice. “That drunken old wretch!”
“Pah! he is only the figurehead. I am the editor; no one knows him, that is the charm. He has been lying perdu at Auteuil for half a century, and now I have got him, he is only a skin; I am going to stuff him—stuff him with Pelisson. Already people are asking who is this Marquis de Nani, and people are answering he is the editor of the new journal that is going to be, Pantin, the wittiest man in Paris, and discovered by Pelisson. I am circulating bonmots of De Nani’s; they are mine, but nobody knows that. In a week’s time everyone will be talking of De Nani, this Marquis who is a genius; everyone will be craving to see him. You know Paris. The old fool is wise enough to dodge round comers, for he knows his own stupidity; should anyone find it out, they will put it down to his cleverness. Wolf is publishing an interview with him written by me. Oh, yes! Pantin will be a success, and you will have your hundred thousand francs back, Toto, and a hundred thousand on top of it.”
“You got the bills discounted?”
“Oh, yes.”