Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons (Guilhem Vellut)
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A short, fat man in his late fifties reclined at a dangerous angle in a cheap rotating office chair. He may just have woken up. The Musée Bourdelle, a municipal museum hidden away on the slopes of Montparnasse, saw nothing like the crowds that assaulted the Louvre or the Musée d’Orsay, particularly on a drizzly Sunday morning. Its staff had the somnolent look of those whose days were spent in a quiet backwater. The guard – his rumpled red blazer left little doubt as to his role – pivoted in his chair, turning away from a bank of small screens showing black-and-white images to look forbiddingly at Franck.