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part of the paraphernalia of the art-student in Paris. It gave
consideration in the eyes of one’s fellows. It was something
to boast about. But the difficulty was that they had scarcely
enough money to keep themselves, and though they ar-
gued that French-women were so clever it cost no more to
keep two then one, they found it difficult to meet young
women who were willing to take that view of the circum-
stances. They had to content themselves for the most part
with envying and abusing the ladies who received protec-
tion from painters of more settled respectability than their
own. It was extraordinary how difficult these things were in
Paris. Lawson would become acquainted with some young
thing and make an appointment; for twenty-four hours he
would be all in a flutter and describe the charmer at length
to everyone he met; but she never by any chance turned up
at the time fixed. He would come to Gravier’s very late, ill-
tempered, and exclaim:
‘Confound it, another rabbit! I don’t know why it is they
don’t like me. I suppose it’s because I don’t speak French
well, or my red hair. It’s too sickening to have spent over a
year in Paris without getting hold of anyone.’
‘You don’t go the right way to work,’ said Flanagan.
He had a long and enviable list of triumphs to narrate,
and though they took leave not to believe all he said, evi-
dence forced them to acknowledge that he did not altogether
lie. But he sought no permanent arrangement. He only had
two years in Paris: he had persuaded his people to let him
come and study art instead of going to college; but at the
end of that period he was to return to Seattle and go into his