THE PORTRAIT GALLERY
223
of Man and of the Citizen. I admired without reservation the reign
of man.
A lady and gentleman had entered. They were dressed in black
and were trying to be inconspicuous. They stopped, dumbfounded,
on the threshold, and the gentleman uncovered
his
head instinctively.
"Ah! Wonderful!" said the woman, deeply moved.
The man recovered his composure more quickly. He spoke in
a tone of respect.
"It's a whole epoch!"
"Yes," said the woman, "it is the epoch of my grandmother."
They took a few steps and met the eyes of Jean Parrottin. The
woman stood gaping, but the man was not proud: he had a humble
air, he must have been very familiar with intimidating looks and brief
interviews. He pulled gently at his wife's arm:
"Look at this one," he said.
The smile of Remy Parrottin had always put the humble at
their ease. The wife approached and read carefully.
"Portrait of Remy Parrottin, born in Bouville, in 1849, Professor
of the School of Medicine in Paris, by Renaudas."
"Parrottin, of the Academy of Science," said her husband, "by
Renaudas, of the Institute. This is History!"
The woman nodded, looking at the Great Master.
"How fine he is," she said, "what an intelligent face!"
The husband made a sweeping gesture.
"These are the people who have made Bouville," he said simply.
"It's a fine thing to have put them here all together," said the
woman softly.
We were three soldiers going through drill in this great room.
The husband,
~ho
was smiling quietly and respectfully, glanced at
me uneasily and ceased smiling abruptly. I turned and planted
myself before the portrait of Olivier Blevigne. A sweet feeling of
joy ran through me: indeed! I was right. It was really too funny!
The woman was approaching me.
"Gaston," she said, suddenly made bold, "come here!"
The husband came towards us.
'
'~I
say," she went on, "there's a street named after this one :
Olivier Blevigne. You know, the little street that goes up Green Hill,
just before you get to Jouxtebouville."
She added after a moment:
"He doesn't look goodnatured."
"No. The gripers have to have somebody to talk to."
