He was handsome with snapping black
eyes, a cruel mouth and a droll and humorous tongue. He was grateful to
Carnac for saving his daughter's life. Coffee and cigarettes were
produced, and they chatted and smoked while Carnac took in the
surroundings. Everything was plain, but spotlessly clean, and he learned
that Larue made his living by doing odd jobs in an electric firm. He was
just home from his work. Luzanne was employed every afternoon in a
milliner's shop, but her evenings were free after the housework was done
at nine o'clock. Carnac in a burst of enthusiasm asked if she would sit
to him as a model in the mornings. Her father instantly said, of course
she would.
This she did for many days, and sat with her hair down and bared neck, as
handsome and modest as a female martyr should. Carnac painted her with
skill. Sometimes he would walk with her to lunch and make her eat
something sustaining, and they talked freely then, though little was said
while he was painting her. At last one day the painting was finished, and
she looked up at him wistfully when he told her he would not need another
sitting. Carnac, overcome by her sadness, put his arms round her and
kissed her mouth, her eyes, her neck ravenously.
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