Bongrand shook his head, and then started off again, amid a tremendous burst of mirth: 

’No! no! one can no longer throw off the merest daub without being hailed as a young “master.”  Well, if you only knew how your young masters amuse me!’

But as if these words had led to some other ideas, he cooled down, and turned towards Claude to ask this question:  ’By the way, have you seen Fagerolles’ picture?’

‘Yes,’ said the young fellow, quietly.

They both remained looking at each other:  a restless smile had risen to their lips, and Bongrand eventually added: 

‘There’s a fellow who pillages you right and left.’

Jory, becoming embarrassed, had lowered his eyes, asking himself whether he should defend Fagerolles.  He, no doubt, concluded that it would be profitable to do so, for he began to praise the picture of the actress in her dressing-room, an engraving of which was then attracting a great deal of notice in the print-shops.  Was not the subject a really modern one?  Was it not well painted, in the bright clear tone of the new school?  A little more vigour might, perhaps, have been desirable; but every one ought to be left to his own temperament.  And besides, refinement and charm were not so common by any means, nowadays.

Bending over his canvas, Bongrand, who, as a rule, had nothing but paternal praise for the young ones, shook and made a visible effort to avoid an outburst.  The explosion took place, however, in spite of himself.

’Just shut up, eh? about your Fagerolles!  Do you think us greater fools than we really are?  There! you see the great painter here present.  Yes; I mean the young gentleman in front of you.  Well, the whole trick consists in pilfering his originality, and dishing it up with the wishy-washy sauce of the School of Arts!  Quite so! you select a modern subject, and you paint in the clear bright style, only you adhere to correctly commonplace drawing, to all the habitual pleasing style of composition—­in short, to the formula which is taught over yonder for the pleasure of the middle-classes.  And you souse all that with deftness, that execrable deftness of the fingers which would just as well carve cocoanuts, the flowing, pleasant deftness that begets success, and which ought to be punished with penal servitude, do you hear?’

He brandished his palette and brushes aloft, in his clenched fists.

‘You are severe,’ said Claude, feeling embarrassed.  ’Fagerolles shows delicacy in his work.’

‘I have been told,’ muttered Jory, mildly, ’that he has just signed a very profitable agreement with Naudet.’

That name, thrown haphazard into the conversation, had the effect of once more soothing Bongrand, who repeated, shrugging his shoulders: 

‘Ah!  Naudet—­ah!  Naudet.’