He rejected the idea of returning to the studio, and invariably decided on going down the Rue Guenegaud, to walk along the quays.

And, until evening, he went along, dazed and seized with sudden shudders whenever he looked at the Seine.

Whether in his studio or in the streets, his dejection was the same.

The following day he began again.

He passed the morning on his divan, and dragged himself along the quays in the afternoon.