Half a month later. One morning, after finishing my work, I decided to take a vacation for myself and stay at the Louvre Museum for a day. I came to the gallery and walked slowly here. The famous paintings on the wall made me feel moved and my mind was filled with thoughts. I admired for a long time and suddenly found an acquaintance standing in front of me, Stellov. I immediately laughed, because every time I saw his fat figure, round eyes like a frightened deer, I would laugh out loud.

It was this time, I found something was wrong. He was not as happy as usual, but as sad as a frost-beating eggplant. He looked very depressed, but also funny, as if a man who had just suffered a disaster in the water was worried that others would laugh at his wet clothes. I called his name, and he turned his head, his eyes were dazed, as if he was looking at me, or as if he was not looking at me. Although his lenses were large, they still could not block the sorrow that came out of his round eyes.

"Stellov." I called again.

He was frightened by me and found that the person who called him was me, he forced a smile, but the smile was ugly.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you wandering here? It's like losing your soul." I tried to ask him in a lively tone.

"I haven't been to the Louvre for a long time. Today I want to visit here, maybe they have new exhibitions."

"But haven't you told me before that you want to draw a week?"

"Strickland is in the studio, he wants to draw."

"Oh? Why did he draw there?"

"It was my suggestion. He hasn't fully recovered, so he can't go back to where he was originally living. I thought that the two of us could use that studio together. You know, there are many studios in the Latin Quarter that are rented for doubles, which saves more money, so I thought this idea was good. And if a person is tired of painting, he can chat with the people around him for a while, and I think it must be interesting."

He said slowly, and had to stop and rest for a moment after saying a word, completely losing his previous fluency. He stared at me, and his gentle and slightly silly round eyes seemed to tell me endless sadness.

"I don't understand what you mean," I said.

"Strickland can't concentrate on painting with someone around her."

"Damn it, so what? That studio belongs to you from beginning to end. If he wants to draw, he should solve the venue problem by himself." I said angrily.

He looked at me with a sad expression, his lips blemished.

"What the hell happened?" I was a little impatient.

He hesitated for a while, his face turned red. His eyes passed over me and fell on a painting on the wall, and I could see that his heart was struggling.

"He didn't let me draw there, he asked me to go out and find another way."

"Why don't you drive him away?" I was so angry that I was furious.

"He drove me out. He was a patient, and I couldn't fight him. Then he threw my hat out and finally locked the door from inside."

I was so angry that I was so angry that I was dying of Strickland's actions, but I knew I was also responsible. If it weren't for my persuasion, perhaps Stello's wife would not have agreed to her husband's request to take him in. In short, this time Delk Stello was still regarded as a fool, and I was so angry that I wanted to laugh.

"What's your wife's reaction?"

"She's not here. She's out shopping."

"Will he keep her out?"

"I have no idea."

I don't understand what Stellov's answer meant. He stood there blankly, lowering his head, like a scolded elementary school student.

"Then I'll help you drive Strickland away, okay?" I asked.

He shivered for a moment, his face turned redder.

"No, you'd better not do this."

He said softly, then nodded at me, and left in a hurry. Obviously, he didn't want to discuss this matter carefully with me, and I didn't understand why.
Chapter completed!