Gogin told me that Berg, an impulsive Swede whom he had known in Laurens’s studio in Paris and who painted very well, came to London and was taken by an artist friend [Henry Scott Tuke, A.R.A.] to the National Gallery where he became very enthusiastic about the Terbourgs. They then went for a walk and, in Kensington Gore, near one of the entrances to Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens, there was an old Irish apple-woman sitting with her feet in a basket, smoking a pipe and selling oranges.
“Arranges two a penny, sorr,” said the old woman in a general way.
And Berg, turning to her and throwing out his hands appealingly, said:
“O, madame, avez-vous vu les Terbourgs? Allez voir les Terbourgs.”
He felt that such a big note had been left out of the life of any one who had not seen them.
At Doctors’ Commons
A woman once stopped me at the entrance to Doctors’ Commons and said:
“If you please, sir, can you tell me—is this the place that I came to before?”
Not knowing where she had been before I could not tell her.