“‘Miss Rita Warren is with you. She can take them as well as I.’”
“And were you flattered!” Betty laughed.
“Naturally. I went to see him as soon as I returned. He was very cordial. ‘Come,’ he said, taking my hand as if I were a child. ‘I have a picture to show you. It is, I think, a masterpiece.’
“He led me into a fairly large room and switched on a light. There were three objects in the room—a large picture in a dull gilt frame, and two very ordinary chairs.
“‘Sit here,’ he said, ‘it is the best light.’ I sat down.
“‘You know,’ he said, ‘that this part of India was once ruled by the French. Far up in the mountains is one of their ancient churches. I found this picture in the tower of that church. I think it is a Madonna by Godin.’
“I had studied art in college and was inclined to agree with him.
“One thing that struck me as strange was that in the background, on a large rock, sat three black pigeons. Then too, in many places there were overtones of color that did not appear to belong there. Strangest of all, there were in places faint suggestions of geometric figures.
“He read the look on my face. ‘I am now restoring it,’ he explained.
“‘Well, I don’t like your part of the work!’ I had spoken without thought.