There was a ripple of amused laughter among the young artists and a rapid exchange of glances, but not one of them rose. Instead, a rather massive female, utterly unknown to me, with as many rows of gold braid across her chest as a French academician, a porter at the Crédit Lyonnais, or a soldier in the army of the Prince of Monaco, stood on her feet.
What, exactly, would you like to know? she asked in a voice in which authority and confidence were equal elements.
I'd like to know everything, but I'd be satisfied with anything. What, for instance, is the meaning of that picture?
She pointed to Andrew Dasburg's The Absence of Edith Dale, a cubistic contribution to æsthetic production in several planes and the colours of red, yellow, and blue.
The massive lady began with some hesitation. Her confidence had not deserted her but she seemed to be searching for precise words.
Well, she said, that picture is the kind of picture that gives pleasure to the kind of people who like that kind of picture. The arrangement of planes and colours is very satisfying. Perhaps I could explain it to you in terms of music. Do you understand the terminology of music?
Not at all, snapped the little woman with the eye-glasses.
The massive lady seemed gratified and continued,
