In any exhibition of pictures in London, Paris, Rome, Milan, Munich, New York or Boston, it would have been the cynosure, the target of ecstatic admirations.

It was just such another work as his celebrated 'Pont d'Austerlitz,' which hung in the Luxembourg.

And neither a frame of 'chemical gold,' nor the extremely variegated coloration of the other merchandise on sale could kill it.
However, there were no signs of a crowd.

People passed to and fro, just as though there had not been a masterpiece within ten thousand miles of them.

Once a servant girl, a loaf of bread in her red arms, stopped to glance at the window, but in an instant she was gone, running.
Priam's first instinctive movement had been to plunge into the shop, and demand from his tobacconist an explanation of the phenomenon.