And when he was alone in the studio numerous callers--all women, some inquisitive and aggressive, others sad, with a deserted air--were constantly interrupting his thoughtful pursuits.
One of them terrified the occupants of the studio with her insistence.
She was a North American of uncertain age, somewhere between thirty-two and fifty-nine, with short skirts that whenever she sat down, seemed to fly up as if moved by a spring.

Various dances with Desnoyers and a visit to the rue de la Pompe she seemed to consider as her sacred rights, and she pursued the master with the desperation of an abandoned zealot.

Julio had made good his escape upon learning that this beauty of youthful elegance--when seen from the back--had two grandchildren.
"MASTER Desnoyers has gone out," Argensola would invariably say upon receiving her.

And, thereupon she would burst into tears and threats, longing to kill herself then and there that her corpse might frighten away those other women who would come to rob her of what she considered her special privilege.

Now it was Argensola who sped his companion to the street when he wished to be alone.