M. Chastain opened his mouth, then shut it again. Shaking his head, he snorted. ‘I had planned to next tell you how it was done, but I see that you have already discovered that.’

Vincent clapped M. Chastain on the shoulder and gestured to Jane. ‘Allow me to introduce my wife, who—’

‘Who is as perceptive as you said she would be.’ M. Chastain offered her a bow. ‘Forgive my astonishment. But I have several students who still cannot understand how this is done, and they have the benefit of having watched me develop the technique. I had begun to think I was clever.’

‘Oh!’ Jane flushed. She must be seen as importuning, to come in and immediately pick his technique apart. It was a terrible, rude thing to do, but she had been so taken with it she forgot herself. ‘But you are clever. Recall that you wrote to Vincent about your new technique. I should never have thought of this idea on my own. Your invention is more clever by half than merely recognising that which one has been told about. Indeed, I believe that you give M. Jacquard too much credit by naming it after him and it should instead be called a Chastain Damask.’

M. Chastain chuckled at this. ‘My students have said the same thing, but it seems immodest.’

‘But more accurate, perhaps?’ Vincent inclined his head in a bow to his friend.

M. Chastain waved that away, but Jane silently resolved to give credit to the creator by calling the technique a Chastain Damask. He leaned toward her husband with a devilish gleam in his eyes. ‘And do you also see what I have done, David?’

Her husband shook his head slowly, gaze dulling as he let his perception shift. ‘I see the twist to which Jane refers, but had not yet recognised the pattern of opposites.’

‘The real challenge lies in finding an image which one can create from the pairs of opposing folds. I have yet to use it in a commissioned piece because it takes so much time to create, and clients rarely understand the intricacies or limits of glamour. I tell you, if I could ever find a way to create a glamour here and transport it, I should never leave Binché again. As it is, I must venture forth periodically and try to bring art to the uninformed savages.’

‘My husband and I disagree on this point, but I have often felt that an educated audience is a more appreciative audience.’

‘Appreciative, yes,’ Vincent inclined his head. ‘But I want to transport them, and whether they understand the craft of my work has little effect on that. All I want or care about is to know if I have taken them outside themselves, even for the briefest of moments. The effort to achieve that is well worthwhile, even if they never comprehend my “genius.” ’