ated . . . very slowly."

"In what manner?"

"A gas of our own invention. We have the patent. On the other side of the
building are the public entrances--three little doors opening on
small streets. When a man or a woman present themselves they are
interrogated. Then they are offered assistance, aid, protection. If a
client accepts, inquiries are made; and sometimes we have saved their
lives."

"Where do you get your money?"

"We have a great deal. There are a large number of shareholders. Besides
it is fashionable to contribute to the establishment. The names of the
donors are published in Figaro. Then the suicide of every rich man costs
a thousand francs. And they look as if they were lying in state. It costs
the poor nothing."

"How can you tell who is poor?"

"Oh, oh, monsieur, we can guess! And, besides, they must bring a
certificate of indigency from the commissary of police of their district.
If you knew how distressing it is to see them come in! I visited their
part of our building once only, and I will never go again. The place
itself is almost as good as this part, almost as luxurious and
comfortable; but they themselves . . . they themselves!!! If you could
see them arriving, the old men in rags coming to die; persons who have
been dying of misery for months, picking up their food at the edges of
the curbstone like dogs in the street; women in rags, emaciated, sick,
paralyzed, incapable of making a living, who say to us after they have
told us their story: 'You see that things cannot go on like that, as I
cannot work any longer or earn anything.' I saw one woman of eighty-seven
who had lost all her children and grandchildren, and who for the last six
weeks had been sleeping out of doors. It made me ill to hear of it. Then
we have so many different cases, without counting those who say nothing,
but simply ask: 'Where is it?' These are admitted at once and it is all
over in a minute."

With a pang at my heart I repeated:

"And . . . where is it?"

"Here," and he opened a door, adding:

"Go in; this is the part specially reserved for club members, and the one
least used. We have so far had only eleven annihilations here."

"Ah! You call that an . . . annihilation!"

"Yes, monsieur. Go in."

I hesitated. At length I went in. It was a wide corridor, a sort of
greenhouse in which panes of glass of pale blue, tender pink and delicate
green gave the poetic charm of landscapes to the inclosing walls.