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the art world, always he wanted to tell you about it with a swift flow of words, and always his

rebellious hair and fair mustache seemed to be sharing in his gestures. There wasn't anything

first rate in the Salon, he reported, but there was a young Russian genius, Alexander Jacovleff,

being shown at one of the galleries; a truly great draftsman, and Lanny must come and have a

look right away. Also, Zoltan had come upon a discovery, a set of Blake water-color drawings

which had been found in an old box in a manor-house in Surrey; they were genuine, and still

fresh in color; nobody else on earth could have done such angels and devils; doubtless they had

been colored by Blake's wife, but that was true of many Blakes. They ought to fetch at least a

thousand pounds apiece

Immediately Lanny began running over in his mind the names of persons who might be

interested in such a treasure trove. It wasn't only because Zoltan would pay him half the

commission; it was because it was a game that he had learned to play. No use for Irma to

object, no use to think that the money she deposited to his account would ever bring him the same

thrills as he got from putting through a deal.

"We shan't be able to get what we used to," said the friend. "You'd be astonished the way

prices are being cut."

No matter; the pictures were just as beautiful, and if you kept your tastes simple, you could

live and enjoy them. But the dealers who had loaded themselves up were going to have trouble

paying their high rents; and the poor devils who did the painting would wander around with

their canvases under their arms, and set them up in the windows of tobacco-shops and every

sort of place, coming back two or three times a day and gazing at them wistfully, hoping that this

might cause some passer-by to stop and take an interest.

Paris in the springtime was lovely, as always, and the two friends strolled along, feasting

their eyes upon the chestnut blossoms and their olfactories upon the scents of flowerbeds.

Zoltan was near fifty, but he acted and talked as young as his friend; he was full of plans to

travel here and there, to see this and that. He was always meeting some delightful new person,

discovering some new art treasure. Happy indeed is the man with whom business and

pleasure are thus combined! A thousand old masters had made life easy for him, by producing

works over which he could rave and feel proud when he secured one for some customer.

There were always wealthy persons on the hunt for famous works of art; and Zoltan would

caution his Pink friend not to be too contemptuous in his attitude toward such persons. Many

were ignorant and pretentious, but others were genuine art lovers who could be helped and

encouraged; and that was not only good business, it was a public service, for many of these

collections would come to museums in the end. Zoltan didn't know much about economics, and

didn't bother his head with Lanny's revolutionary talk; he said that, no matter what happened,

the paintings would survive, and people would want to see them, and there would be occupation

for the man who had cultivated his tastes and could tell the rare and precious from the cheap

and common.

VIII

Lanny rented a car and motored Zoltan out to have lunch with Emily Chattersworth at her

estate, Les Forêts, where she spent the greater part of each year, a very grand place of which

Lanny had memories from childhood. On this lawn under the great beech-trees he had

listened to Anatole France exposing the scandals of the kings and queens of old-time France. In

this drawing-room he had played the piano for Isadora Duncan, and had been invited to elope

with her. Here also he had played accompaniments for Hansi, the day when Hansi and Bess

had met and fallen irrevocably in love.

The white-haired chatelaine wanted to hear the news of all the families. She was interested in

the story of Zaharoff and the duquesa, whom she had known. Emily had had a seance with

Madame Zys-zynski, but hadn't got any significant results; it must be because she was hostile

to the idea, and had frightened the spirits! She preferred to ask Zoltan's opinion of the Salon,

which she had visited. Having a couple of paintings which no longer appealed to her taste, she

showed them to the expert and heard his estimate of what they might bring. She told him not to

hurry; she had lost a lot of money, as everybody else had, but apparently it was only a paper

loss, for the stocks were still paying dividends. Lanny advised her not to count on that.

A young Pink wouldn't come to Paris without calling at the office of Le Populaire and

exchanging ideas with Jean Longuet and Leon Blum. Lanny knew what they thought, because he

read their paper, but they would want to hear how the workers' education movement was going

in the Midi, and what the son of an American industrialist had seen in the Soviet Union. From a

luncheon with Longuet, Lanny strolled to look at picture exhibitions, and then climbed the