;Do not give ime to c; cried Porbus, striking Poussin on t;t t is immortal.quot;

    quot;t; said Gillette. Sching Poussin and Porbus closely.

    S Freno gazing at trait  first for a Giorgione--

    quot;A; s;let us go up to tudio. ;

    the sound of her voice recalled Poussin from his dreams.

    quot;Old man,quot; ;do you see t into your  at t cry from t fire to your  alive. Do you understand?quot;

    Nicolas Poussin scote took comfort from ters bearing, and yet more from t gesture, and almost forgave o  and ure.

    Porbus and Poussin stood at tudio and looked at eac first ter of t Mary of Egypt ions: quot;Aaken off old o come into t--; but t of tress in Poussins face suddenly silenced ers no longer feel tty in t, ural and gracious in t  of  glued to tanding in t ors ing for t strike doyrant.

    quot;Come in, come in,quot; cried t . quot;My . I can ser, brus, and canvas produce a rival for Cat, tiful courtezan!quot;

    Porbus and Poussin, burning y, o a vast studio. Everyt, but tures opped first of all in admiration before tially draped.

    quot;O,quot; said Fren;t is a roug I made, a study, a pose, it is not;  on, indicating ting compositions upon tudio.

    t struck Porbus and Poussin dumb . ture of .

    quot;Look ; said tation, tered, hed hard like a young lover frenzied by love.

    quot;A; ;you did not expect to see sucion! You are looking for a picture, and you see a  canvas, tmosprue t you can not distinguis from t surrou