You ought to tell her to work, to persevere." "And we French, mademoiselle," said Valentin, "are accused of being false flatterers!" "I don't want any flattery, I want only the truth.

But I know the truth." "All I say is that I suspect there are some things that you can do better than paint," said Valentin.
"I know the truth--I know the truth," Mademoiselle Noemie repeated.

And, dipping a brush into a clot of red paint, she drew a great horizontal daub across her unfinished picture.
"What is that ?" asked Newman.
Without answering, she drew another long crimson daub, in a vertical direction, down the middle of her canvas, and so, in a moment, completed the rough indication of a cross.

"It is the sign of the truth," she said at last.
The two men looked at each other, and Valentin indulged in another flash of physiognomical eloquence.

"You have spoiled your picture," said Newman.
"I know that very well.