"
"How can you believe all that?"
"There's no question of belief or disbelief. That's the law, and you take it or
refuse it as you please. I try to obey, but I can't, and then my work turns
bad on my hands. Under any circumstances, remember, four-fifths of everybody's
work must be bad. But the remnant is worth the trouble for its own sake."
"Isn't it nice to get credit even for bad work?"
"It's much too nice. But----May I tell you something? It isn't a pretty tale,
but you're so like a man that I forget when I'm talking to you."
"Tell me."
"Once when I was out in the Soudan I went over some ground that we had been
fighting on for three days. There were twelve hundred dead; and we hadn't time
to bury them."
"How ghastly!"
"I had been at work on a big double-sheet sketch, and I was wondering what
people would think of it at home. The sight of that field taught me a good
deal. It looked just like a bed of horrible toadstools in all colours, and--I'd
never seen men in bulk go back to their beginnings before. So I began to
understand that men and women were only material to work with, and that what
they said or did was of no consequence. See? Strictly speaking, you might just
as well put your ear down to the palette to catch what your colours are
saying.
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