Then this means in which he placed so much confidence was only a new imprudence, as the question, "You recognize me, then?" was a mistake. "Come, I will pose you at once," the photographer said. "Very curious, this shaved head, and still more interesting, I think, than with the beard and long hair. The traits of character are more clearly seen." "It is not for a new portrait that I have come, but for the old one. Have you any of the proofs?" "I think not, but I will see. In any case, if you wish some they are easily made, since I have the plate." "Will you look them up? For I have not a single proof left of those you gave me, and on looking at myself in the glass this morning I found such changes between my face of to-day and that of three years ago, that I would like to study them. Certain ideas came to me on the expression of the physiognomy, that I wish to study, with something to support them." The search for the proofs made by an assistant led to no results; there were no proofs. "Exactly; and for several days I have thought of making some," the photographer said. "Because your day of glory will come, when your portrait will be in a distinguished place in the shop-windows and collections. Every one talks of your 'concours'. Although I have abandoned medicine without the wish to return to it, I have not become indifferent to what concerns it, and I learned of your success. Which portrait shall we put in circulation? The old or the new?" "The new." "Then let us arrange the pose." "Not to-day; it is only yesterday that I was shaved, fearing an attack of pelagre, and the skin covered by the beard has a crude whiteness that will accentuate the hardness of my physiognomy, which is really useless. We will wait until the air has tanned me a little, and then I will return, I promise you." "How many proofs do you want of your old portrait?" "One will do." "I will send you a dozen." "Do not take the trouble; I will take them when I come to pose. But in the mean time, could you not show me the plate?" "Nothing easier." When it was brought, Saniel took the glass plate with great care, holding it with the tips of his fingers by the two opposite corners, in order not to efface the portrait. Then, as he was standing in the shadow of a blue curtain, he walked towards the chimney where the light was strong, and began his examination. "It is very good," he said; "very curious." "Only a photograph can have this documentary value." To compare this document with the reality, Saniel approached the chimney more closely, above which was a mirror. When his feet touched the marble hearth he stopped, looking alternately at the plate which he held carefully in his hands, and at his face reflected in the glass. Suddenly he made an exclamation; he let fall the plate, which, falling flat on the marble, broke into little pieces that flew here and there. "How awkward I am!"