I do not think it is successful." "It is you, old man, you! It is well drawn.

You criticise it wrongly.
Where will you hang it ?" He grew talkative again like a magpie, that amiable young man, and all because his wretched painting was to be preserved for some time.

O impetuous, O happy youth! Here I could not restrain myself from a little jest for the purpose of teaching a lesson to the self-confident youngster, so I asked him, with a smile: "Well, Mr.Artist, what do you think?
Am I murderer or not ?" The artist, closing one eye, examined me and the portrait critically.
Then whistling a polka, he answered recklessly: "The devil knows you, old man!" I smiled.

K.understood my jest at last, burst out laughing and then said with sudden seriousness: "You are speaking of the human face but do you know that there is nothing worse in the world than the human face?
Even when it tells the truth, when it shouts about the truth, it lies, it lies, old man, for it speaks its own language.

Do you know, old man, a terrible incident happened to me?
It was in one of the picture galleries in Spain.