Page:The Novels and Tales of Henry James, Volume 2 (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1907).djvu/49

 "Of course they do. They're great things, these parasols. They understand detail out here."

"Where do you buy them?"

"Anywhere, everywhere."

"Well, Tristram, I'm glad to get hold of you. I guess you can tell me a good deal. I suppose you know Paris pretty correctly," Newman pursued.

Mr. Tristram's face took a rosy light. "Well, I guess there are not many men that can show me much. I 'll take care of you."

"It's a pity you were not here a few minutes ago. I've just bought a picture. You might have put the thing through for me."

"Bought a picture? said Mr. Tristram, looking vaguely round the walls. "Why, do they sell them?"

"I mean a copy."

"Oh, I see. These"—and Mr. Tristram nodded at the Titians and Vandykes—"these, I suppose, are originals?"

"I hope so," said Newman. "I don't want a copy of a copy."

"Ah," his friend sagaciously returned, "you can never tell. They imitate, you know, so deucedly well. It's like the jewellers with their false stones. Go into the Palais Royal there; you see 'Imitation' on half the windows. The law obliges them to stick it on, you know; but you can't tell the things apart. To tell the truth," Mr. Tristram continued—and his grimace seemed a turn of the screw of discrimination—"I don't do so very much in pictures. They're one of the things I leave to my wife."

"Ah, you've acquired a wife?" 19