Art, like Liberty, is made to stand sponsor for a variety of things. License is their little sister, without whom they would be sad indeed, yet whose excesses are frequently embarrassing.
Last week License sported, as is her wont every June, on her favorite bank of the Seine, the left one. All one afternoon the cafés and bars along the Boulevard de Montparnasse filled slowly with semi-nude men and women, daubed and stained, and greasepainted brown, black, crimson, orange, vermilion, blue and green, with headdresses, beads and anklets intended to indicate that...
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