ABSTRACT
THIS morning we have no work to do. You cannot paint on the very day you are going away, because both the spirit is disturbed and the means of transporting a sticky canvas are cumbersome. Therefore we transfer ourselves from the breakfast table to a green garden seat which backs the wall of the Hôtel Sestrol. Here we sit lazily reviewing our past four months in Janac, breathing the air yet fresh with the chill of the night.
