“It’s a kind of Jacob’s ladder that will take us up to Paradise,” Caracal continued. “A real Paradise, where I myself have known an Adam and Eve, known them personally, intimately!”
“Oh, M. Caracal, don’t talk of that now,” Miss Rowrer said, “but tell me what this picture is.”
Caracal explained the picture, regretting that Ethel did not question him about the Adam and Eve he had known in the Paradise.
Poufaille, who had lifted his head, lowered it quickly. The party was just in front of him, all looking at his picture. He had heard Caracal say to Miss Rowrer: “An artist, a great artist, with a brain, but no luck! It is incredible, his lack of luck—I could tell you a story—”
But Caracal was interrupted by grandma, who noticed the frayed cravat and worn shoes of Poufaille, and pointed him out to Will. Caracal presented Poufaille, who nearly fell from his high stool. The duke bowed. Ethel greeted him cordially, as well as Suzanne, at whom the duke did not even look.
“That’s the way of the world!” Suzanne thought within herself.
“Do you really wish me to buy such a daub?” Will said in an aside to grandma, after judging, at a glance, the “Goat and the Kids.”
“Poor devil! he is in rags,” Ethel murmured.
“All right,” Will answered; “it’s frightful, but I’ll send it to my farm in Texas—it will give them a poor idea of grazing in the old country!”
Poufaille felt his legs tremble under him, and thought all the torrents of Pactolus were pouring down upon him when Will, taking his leave, gave him in advance the money for the order.