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Philip answered that the head interested him, he thought
he could do a good portrait.
‘I can’t afford the time. I grudge every minute that I have
to rob from my writing.’
‘But it would only be in the afternoon. I work at the school
in the morning. After all, it’s better to sit to me than to do
translations of legal documents.’
There were legends in the Latin quarter of a time when
students of different countries lived together intimately, but
this was long since passed, and now the various nations
were almost as much separated as in an Oriental city. At
Julian’s and at the Beaux Arts a French student was looked
upon with disfavour by his fellow-countrymen when he
consorted with foreigners, and it was difficult for an Eng-
lishman to know more than quite superficially any native
inhabitants of the city in which he dwelt. Indeed, many of
the students after living in Paris for five years knew no more
French than served them in shops and lived as English a life
as though they were working in South Kensington.
Philip, with his passion for the romantic, welcomed the
opportunity to get in touch with a Spaniard; he used all his
persuasiveness to overcome the man’s reluctance.
‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ said the Spaniard at last. ‘I’ll sit
to you, but not for money, for my own pleasure.’
Philip expostulated, but the other was firm, and at
length they arranged that he should come on the following
Monday at one o’clock. He gave Philip a card on which was
printed his name: Miguel Ajuria.
Miguel sat regularly, and though he refused to accept