Chapter 21 Part Three: I Know Kisling

One day, when I arrived in Ratonda, I saw a large table of people drinking champagne.Among them are painters and models.Sitting in the VIP seat was a handsome, fierce-looking man in military uniform, with a beautiful lock of black hair on his forehead. He was Quisling.Seeing me, he yelled, "Hey, Papa Lipion, who's the new bitch? Hey! Come join us for a drink, little one!" I was at a loss, but someone said to me: "You know what, he's just like that! He likes to yell. But he asked you over because he thought you were nice!" I just stepped forward.At this time, I began to have a little self-confidence.I have to admit, though, that I'm still a bit stage frightened after all.

Sitting next to him was Modigliani, who was muttering and complaining, and occasionally swearing at his mistress...she was not there.We chatted for a while, and I soon felt less intimidated.Under the tantrum and even rude appearance, Quisling is indeed a good friend who cannot be found in dreams! Now, I feel like I am at home in Rotonda.I try to keep two sous in my pocket.I was taught to cheat on a chip machine with two sous, and I almost always got a chip worth twenty or thirty centimes.A cup of coffee costs three sous, and if I am lucky, I can buy a cup of coffee with a fellow who is even worse off than I am.

Also, I found a trick to survive.Because there were a lot of British and American soldiers at the time, I made portraits of them. I'm not a great artist, but I'll never forget the endless stream of ribbons and cigarettes that came out of their pockets!I didn't quite like it, but they weren't too fussy, and I got ten sous in my pocket for every portrait I drew.