Chapter 19 a few nights in the second part of the big fight

Every night, everyone will be woken up by the siren. At this time, all the lights should be extinguished immediately, and they should go downstairs and into the cellar. The first time I went down to the cellar, I was alone in a dank hallway, and the other tenants had made their cellars cozy. I watched them all, without exception, comfortably settled behind wooden gates, eating and killing time.My stomach was screaming with hunger, sixteen was the age with a particularly good appetite, but no one said to me: "Hey, little girl, come with us." So, from then on, I would rather go to the street.

After being scolded by the public security guards, I stooped and ran to the residences of the painters.They were all friends, and the six of them lived in a small studio at 9 rue Campagne Premiere. I posed nude for them by the light of a candle while they drank tea without sugar.Sometimes one of them would bring home some sardines, pate, or chicken stew.No one ever asks where things come from, and everyone devours them together. 0—This is what love looks like—do I have to spend the night under a bridge? ... Soutine - 0 Do I have to spend the night under the bridge? ... Soutine I have to leave the studio where I live.Because my friend came back from Brittany.Luckily, during that time I met a bunch of artists who were struggling like me.They introduced me to an admiring young man, the son of a dentist in Montparnasse, who admired artists.

When I told him that I was living on the street again, he told me that a friend of his had a small warehouse behind the Montparnasse train station. The location of the warehouse was on the Pont Edgard-Quinet. ) below.We went.This is a dilapidated hut with piles of yellow sandbags inside.I can sleep on sandbags. I had to get used to everything, however, I was worried that it would be cold at night. Every night, my lover leaves me the trench coat, and comes back to take it away in the morning before going to work! It's better than living on the street or sleeping with someone.Although someone asks you to borrow a bed, there is a thought in your heart that you should repay the debt of favor on the pillow.

I'm doing fine, I'm even staying with some of my girlfriends at night.But when it's too cold, I can't hold it anymore. One night I happened to be with the little model mentioned earlier, who was put in the prison of Saint-Lasalle by that bitch.It was so cold that Siberia was nothing compared to it! We were both shaking despite our friend's trench coat! She remembered a Pole, a good man, who she had modeled nude for when he drew postcards, and she took me to his house and said to me: "You know, he is a hospitable person, and he won't pester you endlessly for you to repay him. Moreover, he treats you to eat every time! Oh, he won't ask you if you like it, anyway, everyone's stomach Hungry, and I haven't seen anyone refuse. He'll have tea and good salted bread."

Just thinking about it gives me wings.Salted oil, my favorite, it reminds me of the dim sum my grandma made for us when I was young. So, we quickened our pace, expecting to eat something warm.We trotted all the way to Falikier Street where he lived, partly for warmth and partly out of fear. Because it was during the war, all the lights were out, and we couldn't even see the road under our feet. finally reached.We crept up the little stairs leading to the studio. Unfortunately, through the loose door, we heard someone joking. she said to me: she said to me: "Wait, maybe they will leave."

We crouched on the steps of the stairs.It's not as cold here as outside, but my feet are wet, and after a while, they freeze, and the chilblain hurts.We stayed in front of this door for a full two hours, but dared not knock.Adding fuel to our misery, we could hear their laughter, and a man's gruff voice saying: "Come, dear friend, another slice of bread, and you're welcome! To-morrow there may be none more!" There is also the sound of tea being poured into the cup!It was simply torture.From the sound I heard, I could imagine that the two lips were pursed provocatively, blowing hot tea!

The door is made of wood, and there are many insect holes on it.For a while, I stared at the light spots on the door in a daze, they were like sticky worms sticking to them! Suddenly, we heard hurried footsteps.It was a neighbor coming home. I hurried down the steps, and what I bumped into was a man with a strange appearance and personality. His name was Su Ding, and he was already somewhat famous among painters.Because I met him a few times in Ratonda, I stopped him and said: "Su Ding, a friend and I have no place to go, can you let us borrow a shop?" Without stopping, he replied as he walked:

"Come to me if you want!" My girlfriend was already catching up, and we followed one after the other.Su Ding said nothing.He didn't look like he was well fed either. We walked into his studio, and he waved his hand to show us his bed.We shivered from the cold, but still didn't say a word.He started smashing the few pieces of furniture like crazy!Seeing him like that made us feel very nervous. He made a great fire.But we didn't say thank you!We could sense that this would tire him instead. We just look at him with grateful eyes because we appreciate the beauty in his gesture.

He sat down on the only surviving old wicker chair.Everyone is asleep! Today, Soutine is the great painter of our time.I also met him recently.I knew his paintings were expensive and he could have reveled in his success. But he is still the kind and simple old friend of the past. Thanks, Sudin.On a bleak winter night you brought a little sunshine into the hearts of two unfortunate little girls.