"The market for sculpture is very weak," he said.
"Bah!" Pavan snorted. "I do not ask about the market. I ask about my work!"
"Your work is as always," the dealer said evasively.
Pavan turned and gestured, his arm outflung toward the silent statue.
"Look at those breasts. I took them from different girls to achieve the symmetry that nature did not provide.
And the face.
Flawless!
Notice the brow, the eyes, the cheekbones, the nose!" He was suddenly silent, staring up at the statue. "The nose," he said, almost whispering. He turned toward the models, huddling against the wall. "Bring monsieur a bottle of wine!
The nose, monsieur," he said accusingly. "Why did you not tell me about the nose?"
Leocadia was silent.
This was no time to tell Pavan he had found nothing at fault with the nose.
He had a reputation to maintain.
"My chisel!" Pavan roared.
He climbed upon a chair and positioned the chisel delicately. He scraped the stone slightly, then polished the surface with his sleeve.
The marble shone once more and he stepped down and looked.
Suddenly he screamed in frustrated agony.
"It's wrong!" he cried,
"It's all wrong!
Why didn't you tell me, monsieur?
Why did you let me make a fool of myself?"
Leocadia still did not speak.
Pavan stared dumbly at the dealer, tears coming to his eyes, then he turned and violently swung the mallet at the statue's head.
The marble cracked and the head fell into fragments on the floor.
Pavan began to swing wildly at the rest of the statue.
The arms fell, then a shoulder; a crack appeared across the bust and that, too, shattered.
The statue rocked crazily on its pedestal, then crashed forward.
Pavan knelt over the pieces, swinging his mallet like a man possessed.
"I loved you!" he screamed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I loved you and you betrayed me!" At last, he sank exhausted to the floor, amidst the debris. As suddenly as they had come, the tears stopped and Pavan began searching frantically among the pieces of shattered marble. At last, he found what he sought.
He got to his feet. Holding the fragment in his hand, he weaved unsteadily toward the art dealer. Cupping the marble in his hands, he held it out.
"I see now where I went wrong, monsieur," he said. "Do you?"
Leocadia looked at the piece of stone.
He didn't even know what it was intended to be. But again, this was no time for him to speak. He nodded cautiously.
"Thank God!" Pavan cried. "Thank the good Lord that I did not destroy the sole thing of beauty in the stupidity of my disappointment!"
The crowd pushed forward to see what Pavan held in his hand.
It seemed to be only a piece of broken marble.
"What is it?" one of them whispered to another.
"You stupid fools!
Do you not recognize where you come from?
The soul itself of a woman's beauty?" Pavan roared.
He got to his feet and stared at them balefully.
"This is fit only for the gods themselves to lie upon!" He looked down at the stone in his hands and a tender look came over his face.
"Now I see my error," he said.
"It is around this tiny core that I will carve into stone the perfect Woman!" He looked around at them dramatically.
Leocadia looked at the piece of marble again. So that was what it was.
Almost immediately, he thought of the fat young Egyptian prince who had come into the gallery.
This was something he would appreciate.
"A thousand francs," he said.
Pavan looked at the dealer, his confidence suddenly restored.
"A thousand francs!" he said scornfully.
"Fifteen hundred, then," Leocadia murmured.