“I think that is a pity. Then that is because I am a woman, and am conscious of not being a slave.”
“But then such women as you are condemned also to find themselves surrounded by slaves!”
“Your frequentation of the abject has not caused you to forget one banal art!”
“You tempt me to abandon art. Art is the refuge of the shy.”
“Are you shy?”
“Yes.”
“You need not be.”
Her revolving hips and thudding skirts carried her forward with the orchestral majesty of a simple ship. He suddenly became conscious of the monotonous racket.
At that moment the drums beat to close the gardens. They had dinner in a Bouillon near the Seine. They parted about ten o’clock.