spectators had tigerish eyes, red with wine, gleaming with hatred. The
carriage-wheels splashed mud over them, but they did not move. I was
standing on the front seat of an open carriage; from time to time a man
in rags would step out from the wall, hurl a torrent of abuse at us, then
cover us with a cloud of flour. Mud would soon follow; yet we kept on our
way toward the Isle of Love and the pretty wood of Romainville,
consecrated by so many sweet kisses. One of my friends fell from his seat
into the mud, narrowly escaping death on the paving. The people threw
themselves on him to overpower him, and we were obliged to hasten to his
assistance. One of the trumpeters who preceded us on horseback was struck
on the shoulder by a paving-stone; the flour had given out. I had never
heard of anything like that.

I began to understand the time and comprehend the spirit of the age.

CHAPTER III

AFRICAN HOSPITALITY

Desgenais had planned a reunion of young people at his country house. The
best wines, a splendid table, gaming, dancing, hunting, nothing was
lacking. Desgenais was rich and generous. He combined an antique
hospitality with modern ways. Moreover one could always find in his house
the best books; his conversation was that of a man of learning and
culture. He was a problem.

I took with me a taciturn humor that nothing could overcome; he respected
it scrupulously. I did not reply to his questions and he dropped the
subject; he was satisfied that I had forgotten my mistress. I went to the
chase and appeared at the table, and was as convivial as the best; he
asked no more.

One of the most unfortunate tendencies of inexperienced youth is to judge
of the world from first impressions; but it must be confessed that there
is a race of men who are also very unhappy; a race which says to youth:
"You are right in believing in evil, for we know what it is." I have
heard, for example, a curious thing spoken of, a medium between good and
evil, a certain arrangement between heartless women and men worthy of
them--apparently love, but in reality a passing sentiment. They speak of
love as of an engine constructed by a wagon-builder or a
building-contractor. They said to me: "This and that are agreed upon,
such and such phrases are spoken, and certain others are repeated in
reply; letters are written in a prescribed manner, you kneel in a certain
attitude." All is regulated as in a parade.

This made me laugh. Unfortun