The artist came over to him.
“Since I have invited you, you will assist ma about something.”
The notary said emphatically:
“Make any use of me you please. I am at your disposal.”
Romantin took off his jacket.
“Well, citizen, to work!' We are first going to clean up.”
He went to the back of the easel, on which there was a canvas
representing a cat, and seized a very worn-out broom.
“I say! Just brush up while I look after the lighting.”
M. Saval took the broom, inspected it, and then began to sweep the floor
very awkwardly, raising a whirlwind of dust.
Romantin, disgusted, stopped him: “Deuce take it! you don't know how to
sweep the floor! Look at me!”
And he began to roll before him a heap of grayish sweepings, as if he
had done nothing else all his life. Then, he gave bark the broom to the
notary, who imitated him.
In five minutes, such a cloud of dust filled the studio that Rormantin
asked:
“Where are you? I can't see you any longer.”