I persisted and created one or two more paintings and showed them to Mrs Sanson.  I think that was the last time I saw her.
Except maybe another time, very quickly in passing. But for more than four decades, I have been unable to decide on this episode : impossible to state if it is a "dreamed" memory, fully imagined, or something that did happen ; something real. And if I imagined it, I wonder why I did, then. A total mystery to me.

As it happened (if it ever did!), I remember going one day to an appointment that Mrs Sanson had set up with me, at the last moment and a bit in a hurry (I recall this was on the verge of people's departure for their Summer holidays, therefore that meeting couldn't wait). That day she was not at her place, so the rendez-vous was set where she was, attending some sort of cocktail or lunch with friends and family -something like that. She had asked me to drop by that place to deliver or pick up something. The only definite thing that I remember and of which I kept images in my memory (like excerpts of a blurry movie, with scattered sounds), are on the one hand the place itself and visions of the vestibule, and of the other hand Mrs Sanson at the threshold of the large living room where we met, with that thing that we were supposed to exchange.

It was a building located in Paris at one of the intersections of the Boulevard des Maréchaux and a wide alley with an open tree-lined intersection -like an antechamber of the Bois de Boulogne, on the edge of which the building stood like a sentinel. An Art Deco construction of the 1930s (perhaps the Walter Buildings?), with large bay windows and their black metal joinery. I still see mental images of this building, placed at a corner of the Boulogne Woods, with its windows reflecting the sky. Inside I remember a huge living room with its black metal openings as well. I see Mrs Sanson, and a groups of guests in the background and I hear the hubbub of conversations, snippets and flashes of that minute spent with Mrs Sanson there.