Leigh is a friend," she said, "He is welcome in the studio
always. His criticism of a picture is valuable,--besides--he is a
celebrated Englishman!" She laughed, and her eyes flashed.
"Ah! To a celebrated Englishman all things are conceded!" said the
Abbe satirically, "Even the right to enter the sanctum of the most
exclusive lady in Europe! Is it not a curious thing that the good
Britannia appears to stick her helmet on the head, and put her
sceptre in the hand of every one of her sons who condescends to soil
his boots by walking on foreign soil? With the helmet he defies the
gemdarme,--with the sceptre he breaks open every door,--we prostrate
ourselves before his face and curse him behind his back,--c'est
drole!--yet we are all alike, French, Germans, Austrians, and
Italians;--we hate the Englishman, but we black his boots all the
same,--which is contemptible of us,--MAIS, QUE FAIRE! He is so
overwhelming in sheer impudence! With culture and politeness we
might cross swords in courtly duel,--but in the presence of absolute
bluff, or what is called 'cheek', we fall flat in sheer dismay! What
delicious music! I see that it charms our young friend,--he is fond
of music."
"Yes," said Manuel speaking for himself before any question could be
put to him, "I love it! It is like the fresh air,--full of breath
and life.
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