When I prepared to leave, happy, in rare good humor, Monet and Rodin went with me to the door, where we halted briefly to chat a bit more. I thanked Monet for being generous in his praise of my work, and then turned to Rodin, grasping both his hands in mine, as I did so. Filled with emotion, tears rushing to my eyes, I said:  "Monsieur Rodin," my hands still holding his, "I have desired for many years to make your acquaintance: now this dream has come true; meeting you has confirmed my old belief in the saying that:  'The man is the art; the art is the man; and they are inseparable!' "  Rodin, as gracious as the rest of the others, shrugged off my praise, saying, as he glanced over at Monet: "In your humility you try to honor me; but, like the rest of the artists who seek to express themselves honestly, I believe our indebtedness to you is what should be expressed!" With that remark, we parted, shaking hands once more, before I put my hat and coat on, and went down the steps to the garden, and beyond that to several coaches Monet had hired to take his guests back to Paris.