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expected to come out alive. This, however, did not
teach me how to swim.
Our hotel had a little cafe attached to it, and be-
fore dinner we would have aperitifs there, and I did
drawings of the peasants. There was an enormously
fat woman of whom I did many drawings.
We had been in Douarnenez for nearly three
weeks, and Frank had to sail for America in about
ten days' time. We stayed a few more days, and
decided to see some more places, before leaving for
Paris. We went to Concarneau, which is a most
beautiful place. On the quays were about fifty old
ladies and gentlemen with easels, all painting boats.
This was a depressing sight and so we entered a
small sailors' cafe and had some Calvados. The
place was delightful, but the English and Americans
awful. We spent the night there, and started the
next day for Pont Aven, which I had read so much
about in Horace Annesley VachelPs book, The Face
of Clay. It was also the place where Gauguin and a
large colony of artists had lived. It was a dreadful
place. We went to a hotel which was full of really
terrible English Colonels with their wives and
daughters. The proprietor of the hotel recom-
mended us to an old lady near by as the hotel
was full, who let us a charming room, with lace
curtains, family photographs, Virgin Marys, and
Crucifixes. It was pouring with rain when we
arrived; I think it poured for two days. I sat in
our room and painted a portrait of Frank in oils
with an oleograph of the Virgin Mary behind him.
We crossed the road to the hotel for our meals.