BASTIEN
Bastien felt very offended that Loren could think he was implying money meant happiness. Him, the bohemian artist. "I am well aware. But in Venice that was how men marked their success." He had never agreed with it, but he had had to play along with the system. How else would he have had paints to use, wine to drink? In a city ruled by merchants there was a price for everything."If you insist. Though everyone is capable if they believe they are - that is not just a sentiment, I believe it." Bastien guided Pittore back to the center of the room and began to set up a table easel on the floor, which was the right height for his new friend, as well as some brightly coloured paints. It seemed that the gremlin was happy, for it began to immediately splosh red paint all over the canvas Bastien picked out.
Returning to his sorting, Bastien began to return ornaments and decorations to their correct places in the hall. "You may stay, if you like. I believe I am close to unpacking the wine."
We're aware they're trying to take away our dreams
