"Marry! I?" cried Pierre Grassou,—"I, who have a habit of sleeping alone; and get up at cock-crow, and all my life arranged—"
"One hundred thousand francs," said Magus, "and a quiet girl, full of golden tones, as you call 'em, like a Titian."
"What class of people are they?"
"Retired merchants; just now in love with art; have a country-house at Ville d'Avray, and ten or twelve thousand francs a year."
"What business did they do?"
"Bottles."
"Now don't say that word; it makes me think of corks and sets my teeth on edge."
"Am I to bring them?"
"Three portraits—I could put them in the Salon; I might go in for portrait-painting. Well, yes!"
Old Elie descended the staircase to go in search of the Vervelle family. To know to what extend this proposition would act upon the painter, and what effect would be produced upon him by the Sieur and Dame Vervelle, adorned by their only daughter, it is necessary to cast an eye on the anterior life of Pierre Grassou of Fougeres.