e nearest table
they could find, stirred an enormous quantity of sugar in their
thimbleful of coffee, poured the mixture down their throats, and rushed
out into the street again, as though there or elsewhere they had
anything whatever to do. I enjoyed my coffee as much as one can enjoy
good coffee, and did not commit the impropriety of ordering a second
cup, but bought of the tobacconist in the establishment a package of
those cigarettes--not so much good, as genuine, Brazilian--which are
rolled in corn straw instead of in paper. Leaning against a door-post,
I remained standing there, gazed across the street, unrolled one of the
cigarettes, poured the granular black tobacco into the palm of my hand,
decanted it back into the corn leaf, and lighted the preparation. I
looked across the street and was infinitely happy, though there was not
much to see. Only a few people were passing in one direction or the
other, for the most part with a newspaper fresh from the press in their
hands. One man stood at the curb and had his boots blacked. A street
car went rumbling by; the driver lashed his mules, one of which kicked
out behind and struck the dashboard with both hoofs a thwack that
resounded the length of the street.

Throwing away the stub of my cigarette, I now started off and loitered
along. What should I do? Go to the book store and look at French
books--continue my reading in Faubert's letters? No hurry; nobody will
buy them anyway! The air is still too fine.

Or shall I go to the editorial rooms of the German newspaper and see my
friend from Vienna, smoke a decent cigar, talk over the news, talk
about young Vienna, about Hermann Bahr who in his _furor teutonicus_
smashed a beer mug on the head of a Bohemian? About Loris, who is still
a very young man, not permitted as yet to go alone to join his literary
friends at the cafe--his father insists upon accompanying him--"I tell
you what, a marvelous genius!"--?--But the upshot of the matter will
be, he will lock me in when I am not noticing, and will keep me there
until I have ground out an article for his paper. And the weather is
really too fine for that.

Thereupon I was roused from my revery by a breath of sultry fragrance.
I turned in the direction from which I heard footsteps, and caught
sight of the tropical profile of a young lady, who with eyes looking
straight ahead was going her way. Her simple, handsome face was not
yellow, but of a hot-blooded, fine brown, w