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"
I
say
,
have
you
by
any
chance
run
across
a
painter
called
Charles
Strickland
?
"
"
You
don
’
t
mean
to
say
you
know
him
?
"
cried
Stroeve
.
"
Beast
,
"
said
his
wife
.
Stroeve
laughed
.
"
Ma
pauvre
cherie
.
"
He
went
over
to
her
and
kissed
both
her
hands
.
"
She
doesn
’
t
like
him
.
How
strange
that
you
should
know
Strickland
!
"
"
I
don
’
t
like
bad
manners
,
"
said
Mrs
.
Stroeve
.
Dirk
,
laughing
still
,
turned
to
me
to
explain
.
"
You
see
,
I
asked
him
to
come
here
one
day
and
look
at
my
pictures
.
Well
,
he
came
,
and
I
showed
him
everything
I
had
.
"
Stroeve
hesitated
a
moment
with
embarrassment
.
I
do
not
know
why
he
had
begun
the
story
against
himself
;
he
felt
an
awkwardness
at
finishing
it
.
"
He
looked
at
—
at
my
pictures
,
and
he
didn
’
t
say
anything
.
I
thought
he
was
reserving
his
judgment
till
the
end
.
And
at
last
I
said
:
’
There
,
that
’
s
the
lot
!
’
He
said
:
’
I
came
to
ask
you
to
lend
me
twenty
francs
.
’
"
"
And
Dirk
actually
gave
it
him
,
"
said
his
wife
indignantly
.
