Bukatski presented him to Marynia in the following words,-- "I present to you Pan Svirski, a painter, of the genus genius, who not only received his talent, but had the most happy idea of not burying it, which he might have done as well, and with equal benefit to mankind, as any other man. But he preferred to fill the world with water-colors and with fame." Svirski smiled, showing two rows of teeth, wonderfully small, but white as ivory, and said,-- "I wish that were true." "And I will tell you why he did not bury his talent," continued Bukatski; "his reasons were so parochial that it would be a shame for any decent artist to avow them. He loves Pognembin, which is somewhere in Poznan, or thereabouts, and he loves it because he was born there. If he had been born in Guadeloupe he would have loved Guadeloupe, and love for Guadeloupe would have saved him in life also. This man makes me indignant; and will the lady tell me if I am not right?" To this Marynia answered, raising her blue eyes to Svirski, "Pan Bukatski is not so bad as he seems, for he has said everything that is good of you." "I shall die with my qualities known," whispered Bukatski. Svirski was looking meanwhile at Marynia, as only an artist can permit himself to look at a woman, and not offend. Interest was evident in his eyes, and at last he muttered,-- "To see such a head all at once, here in Venice, is a genuine surprise." "What?" asked Bukatski. "I say, that the lady is of a wonderfully well-defined type. Oh, this, for example" (here he drew a line with his thumb along his nose, mouth, and chin). "And also what purity of outline!" "Well, isn't it true?" asked Pan Stanislav, with excitement. "I have always thought the same." "I will lay a wager that thou hast never thought of it," retorted Bukatski. But Pan Stanislav was glad and proud of that interest which Marynia roused in the famous artist; hence he said,-- "If it would give you any pleasure to paint her portrait, it would give me much more to have it." "From the soul of my heart," answered Svirski, with simplicity; "but I am going to Rome to-day. There I have begun the portrait of Pani Osnovski." "And we shall be in Rome no later than ten days from now." "Then we are agreed." Marynia returned thanks, blushing to her ears. But Bukatski began to take farewell, and drew Svirski after him. When they had gone out, he said,-- "We have time yet. Come to Floriani's for a glass of cognac." Bukatski did not know how to drink, and didn't like spirits; but since he had begun to take morphine, he drank more than he could endure, because some one had told him that one neutralized the other. "What a delightful couple those Polanyetskis are!" said Svirski. "They are not long married." "It is evident that he loves her immensely. When I praised her, his eyes were smiling, and he rose as if on yeast." "She loves him a hundred times more." "What knowledge hast thou in such matters?"