This interchange of sentiments was quite enough to engender mutual
understanding and esteem.
In autumn, toward evening, when the setting sun reddened the sky and
cast shadows of the fleeting clouds over the water; when the river was
decked in purple; when the whole horizon was lighted up and the figures
of the two friends were illumined as with fire; when the russet-brown
of the trees was lightly tinged with gold, and the trees themselves
shivered with a wintry shake, Monsieur Sauvage would smile at Monsieur
Morisot and say, "What a sight, eh?"
And Monsieur Morisot, without even raising his eyes from his float
would answer, "Better than the Boulevards, hein!"
This morning, as soon as they had recognised each other they shook
hands warmly, quite overcome at meeting again under such different
circumstances.