I heard him go through the studio and close the door behind him, and
then I heard him open the door upon the public staircase. Presently he
came back, shutting the door behind him as before.

"My dear fellow," he exclaimed, breathlessly, "you have brought luck
with you! What do you think? A sitter--positively, a sitter! Wants to be
sketched in at once--_Vive la France_!"

"Man or woman? Young or old? Plain or pretty?"

"Elderly half-length, feminine gender--Madame Tapotte. They are both
there, Monsieur and Madame Excellent couple--redolent of the
country--husband bucolic, adipose, auriferous--wife arrayed in all her
glory, like the Queen of Sheba. I left them in the Salle d'Attente--told
them I had a sitter--time immensely occupied--half-lengths furiously in
demand ... _Will_ you oblige me by performing the part for a few
minutes, just to carry out the idea?"

"What part?"

"The part of sitter."

"Oh, with pleasure," I replied, laughing. "Do with me what you please,"

"You don't mind? Come! you are the best fellow in the world. Now, if
you'll sit in that arm-chair facing the light--head a little thrown
back, arms folded, chin up ... Capital! You don't know what an effect
this will have upon the provincial mind!"