When Frederick Keppel, the American print expert, first called upon the artist at the Tite Street studio, the famous portrait of Sarasate, "black on black," stood at the end of the long corridor that he used to form a vista for proper perspective of his work. Laying his hand on Keppel's shoulder, he said:
"Now, isn't it beautiful?"
"It certainly is," was the reply.
"No," said he; "but isn't it beautiful?"
"It is indeed," said Keppel.
This was too mild a form of agreement. Whistler raised his voice to a scream:
"D—-n it, man!" he piped. "Isn't it BEAUTIFUL?"
Adopting the emphasis and the exclamation, Mr. Keppel shouted:
"D——n it, it is!"
This was satisfactory.