n unfortunate
man falling at Hemerlingue's feet, supplicating him, threatening him,
springing at his throat in an access of despairing rage. All this
agitation passed over his features like a gust of wind which throws the
surface of a lake into ripples, fashioning there all manner of mobile
whirlpools; but he remained mute, standing in the same place, and upon
the master's intimation that he could withdraw, went down with tottering
step to resume his work in the counting-house.

In the evening when he went home to the Rue Saint-Ferdinand, M. Joyeuse
told his daughters nothing. He did not dare. The idea of darkening that
radiant gaiety which was the life of the house, of making dull with
heavy tears those pretty bright eyes, was insupportable to him.
Timorous, too, and weak, he was of those who always say, "Let us wait
till to-morrow." He waited therefore before speaking, at first until the
month of November should be ended, deluding himself with the vague hope
that Hemerlingue might change his mind, as though he did not know that
will as of some mollusk flabby and tenacious upon its ingot of gold.
Then when his salary had been paid up and another accountant had taken
his place before the high desk at which he had stood for so long, he
hoped to find something else quickly and repair his misfortune before
being obliged to confess it.

Every morning he feigned to start for the office, allowed himself to
be equipped and accompanied to the door as usual, his huge leather
portfolio all ready for the evening's numerous commissions. Although he
would forget some of them on purpose because of the approaching and
so problematical end of the month, he did not lack time now to execute
them. He had his day to himself, the whole of an interminable day which
he spent in rushing about Paris in search for an employment. People gave
him addresses, excellent recommendations. But in that terrible month of
December, so cold and with such short hours of daylight, bringing with
it so many expenses and preoccupations, employees need to take patience
and employers also. Each man tries to end the year in peace, postponing
to the month of January, to that great leap of time towards a fresh
halting-place, any changes, ameliorations, attempts at a new life.

In every house where M. Joyeuse presented himself, he beheld faces
suddenly grow cold as soon as he explained the object of his visit.

"What! You are no longer with Hemerlingue & Son? How i