Read "The Gods are Athirst" by Anatole France online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
On Saturday at seven in the morning the _citoyen_ Blaise, in a black cocked-hat, scarlet waistcoat, doe-skin breeches, and boots with yellow tops, rapped with the handle of his riding-whip at the studio door. The _citoyenne_ Gamelin was in the room in polite conversation with the _citoyen_ Brotteaux, while Evariste stood before a bit of looking-glass knotting his high white cravat.
"A pleasant journey, Monsieur Blaise!" the _citoyenne_ greeted him. "But, as you are going to paint landscapes, why don't you take Monsieur Brotteaux, who is a painter?"