DOI article:
Dowie, Ménie Muriel: Wladlislaw's Advent
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21805#0105
I O I
By Menie Muriel Dowie
Four days later—I had meantime confided the story tono one—
four days later Wladislaw approached me mysteriously from
behind as I was returning one morning from a visit to the Rue
de la Gaiete, with a bunch of onions, half a loaf of black bread,
and two turkey-thighs in a String bag.
I knew from the set of his cap that something unusual had
happened ; and besides, it was the hour at which he should have
been scraping at his fusain in the men’s Studio. He put a letter
in my hand.
“You will say nothing to anybody ? I want you to translate
it. I can’t understand it all. But you will teil no one ? ”
I responded with an eager denial and the question as to who
there could be for me to teil.
He seemed to overlook the half-hundred of students we both
knew, as readily as I did ; and we opened the letter.
This was it :
“Monsieur,—Myname mayperhaps be a sufficient assuranc-e to you
that my unusual conduct of the other evening in discovering for
myself your residence and profession had no unworthy motive. The
explanation is simple. I am painting a large canvas, to be called
‘The Temptation.’ I cannot proceed for want of a model for my
Christ. When my eyes feil upon you, I realised instantly that yours
was the only face in the world that could satisfy my aspiration. It
was impossible for me not to follow you, at the risk of any and every
misunderstanding. I beg you to receive my complete apologies.
Will you sit to me ? I appeal to you as a brother of the brush—
permit me to leave behind me the most perfect Christ-face that has
ever been conceived. Times and terms shall be as you will.
“ Accept, Monsieur and colleague, the assurance of my most
distinguished sentiments.
“ Dufour.”
I looked
By Menie Muriel Dowie
Four days later—I had meantime confided the story tono one—
four days later Wladislaw approached me mysteriously from
behind as I was returning one morning from a visit to the Rue
de la Gaiete, with a bunch of onions, half a loaf of black bread,
and two turkey-thighs in a String bag.
I knew from the set of his cap that something unusual had
happened ; and besides, it was the hour at which he should have
been scraping at his fusain in the men’s Studio. He put a letter
in my hand.
“You will say nothing to anybody ? I want you to translate
it. I can’t understand it all. But you will teil no one ? ”
I responded with an eager denial and the question as to who
there could be for me to teil.
He seemed to overlook the half-hundred of students we both
knew, as readily as I did ; and we opened the letter.
This was it :
“Monsieur,—Myname mayperhaps be a sufficient assuranc-e to you
that my unusual conduct of the other evening in discovering for
myself your residence and profession had no unworthy motive. The
explanation is simple. I am painting a large canvas, to be called
‘The Temptation.’ I cannot proceed for want of a model for my
Christ. When my eyes feil upon you, I realised instantly that yours
was the only face in the world that could satisfy my aspiration. It
was impossible for me not to follow you, at the risk of any and every
misunderstanding. I beg you to receive my complete apologies.
Will you sit to me ? I appeal to you as a brother of the brush—
permit me to leave behind me the most perfect Christ-face that has
ever been conceived. Times and terms shall be as you will.
“ Accept, Monsieur and colleague, the assurance of my most
distinguished sentiments.
“ Dufour.”
I looked