Let me see. I must have been battling my way through the Galleries
step by step for an hour and three-quarters, and I haven't yet decided
which is the best picture.
But then it's no easy matter to make up one's mind when there are so
many, many pictures--and so many, many people....
And some of them, I'm sorry to say, are not quite so considerate
as they might be. For instance, I had nearly chosen Mr. CLAUSEN'S
_Shepherd Boy: Sunrise_. I was imagining the hush, the solitude.
Suddenly two inexorable hats were thrust between me and the canvas,
while two inexorable voices carried on a detailed discussion
about what Doris (whoever Doris may be) was wearing at the wedding
yesterday.
It wasn't fair to me; and it wasn't fair to the _Shepherd Boy_. I know
he hasn't got a face, poor fellow. But is that a reason for putting
ideas into his head?
It seems to me the crush is fiercer than ever in front of the picture
over there. Probably I shall find that to be the best of all; _No.
274_: Mr. J. J. SHANNON'S _Sir Oswald Stoll_. Ah, I see. These ladies
are simply using the unfortunate gentleman as a looking-glass to tidy
their hair in.
But oh, Sir OSWALD, do I really look as tired as all that? Yes, you're
right; I _am_ tired. I'll go and sit down.
Not a vacant seat anywhere.... Yes, there is--quick! At the far end
of the Galleries. Now isn't it just like the _Supreme War Council_ to
have left that one chair empty for me at their table?
No, it's a trick! The artist knew I should never have the effrontery
to sit there, right under the PRIME MINISTER'S nose. Very well, Mr.
OLIVIER, exhausted though I am, I shall not vote for you either.
There's a dull pain all down my spine. My feet are like lead. Give it
up? Never! I will not leave until I have found the masterpiece.
But I can stem the tide no longer. I surrender myself to the mob and
let it bear me whither it wills....
Where am I? Oh, the Architectural Room. Thronged this afternoon,
like all the others. And yet, once upon a time, before I grew old and
weary--heavens, how weary!--I remember this room with only one other
person in it, and she----
Why, here! Right in front of me; _No. 1235: London County Westminster
and Parr's Bank, Ltd.: Brondesbury branch_. That's it. That's the best
picture in the Academy!
Not so much because of its chiaroscuro, not because of its romantic
associations, but because, immediately opposite that branch-bank,
there's a place where at last, at long, long last--ah!--I can sit
down.
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