. It was time that I consolidated my fortunes, Monsieur.

WELLWYN. And you--have----

[He stops embarrassed.]

FERRAND. [Shrugging his ragged shoulders.] One is not yet Rothschild.

WELLWYN. [Sympathetically.] No. [Yielding to memory.] We talked
philosophy.

FERRAND. I have not yet changed my opinion. We other vagabonds, we
are exploited by the bourgeois. This is always my idea, Monsieur.

WELLWYN. Yes--not quite the general view, perhaps! Well----
[Heartily.] Come in! Very glad to see you again.

FERRAND. [Brushing his arms over his eyes.] Pardon, Monsieur--your
goodness--I am a little weak. [He opens his coat, and shows a belt
drawn very tight over his ragged shirt.] I tighten him one hole for
each meal, during two days now. That gives you courage.

WELLWYN. [With cooing sounds, pouring out tea, and adding rum.] Have
some of this. It'll buck you up. [He watches the young man drink.]

FERRAND. [Becoming a size larger.] Sometimes I think that I will
never succeed to dominate my life, Monsieur--though I have no vices,
except that I guard always the aspiration to achieve success. But I
will not roll myself under the machine of existence to gain a nothing
every day. I must find with what to fly a little.

WELLWYN. [Delicately.] Yes; yes--I remember, you found it difficult
to stay long in any particular--yes.

FERRAND. [Proudly.] In one little corner? No--Monsieur--never!
That is not in my character. I must see life.

WELLWYN. Quite, quite! Have some cake?

[He cuts cake.]

FERRAND. In your country they say you cannot eat the cake and have
it. But one must always try, Monsieur; one must never be content.
[Refusing the cake.] 'Grand merci', but for the moment I have no
stomach--I have lost my stomach now for two days. If I could smoke,
Monsieur! [He makes the gesture of smoking.]

WELLWYN. Rather! [Handing his tobacco pouch.] Roll yourself one.

FERRAND. [Rapidly rolling a cigarette.] If I had not found you,
Monsieur--I would have been a little hole in the river to-night--
I was so discouraged. [He inhales and puffs a long luxurious whif of
smoke. Very bitterly.] Life! [He disperses the puff of smoke with
his finger, and stares before him.] And to think that in a few
minutes HE will be born! Monsieur! [He gazes intently at WELLWYN.]
The world would reproach you for your goodness to me.

WELLWYN. [Looking uneasily at the door into the house.] You