What a pity he should be wasted because Monsieur your brother has gone!
I am sure if he could but see one of the exquisite pictures he would
wish to buy all!"
"How do you know that the monsieur is a millionaire, and what makes you
think he would care about pictures?" I enquired.
"I know he is a millionaire because he has come in one of those grand
automobiles which only millionaires ever have. And I think he cares for
pictures because the first thing he did when he came into the hall was
to stare at the old prints on the wall. He praised the two best which
the real artists always praise, and complimented me on owning them" the
dear creature explained. "Besides, he is in this neighbourhood expressly
to see the cathedral; and monsieur your brother has made a most
beautiful sketch of the cathedral. It is now in his portfolio. Is there
nothing we can do? I have already induced the monsieur to drink a glass
of milk while I have come to consult Mademoiselle."
I thought hard for a minute, because it would be grand if I could say
when Brian came back, "I have sold your cathedral for you." But I might
have saved myself brain fag. Madame Mounet had settled everything in her
head, and was merely playing me, like a foolish fish.
"What I have thought of is this," she said. "I told the monsieur that he
could see something better than my prints if he would give himself the
pain of waiting till I could fetch the key of a room where an
artist-client of ours has a marvellous exhibition.
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