No wonder we were struck
with terror upon seeing the six _nouveaux_. Judas immediately protested
to the _planton_ who brought them up that there were no places, getting a
roar in response and the door slammed in his face to boot. But the reader
is not to imagine that it was the number alone of the arrivals which
inspired fear and distrust--their appearance was enough to shake anyone's
sanity. I do protest that never have I experienced a feeling of more
profound distrust than upon this occasion; distrust of humanity in
general and in particular of the following individuals:
An old man shabbily dressed in a shiny frock coat, upon whose peering and
otherwise very aged face a pair of dirty spectacles rested. The first
thing he did, upon securing a place, was to sit upon his mattress in a
professorial manner, tremulously extract a journal from his left coat
pocket, tremblingly produce a large magnifying glass from his upper right
vest pocket, and forget everything. Subsequently, I discovered him
promenading the room with an enormous expenditure of feeble energy,
taking tiny steps flat-footedly and leaning in when he rounded a corner
as if he were travelling at terrific speed. He suffered horribly from
rheumatism, could scarcely move after a night on the floor, and must have
been at least sixty-seven years old.
Pages:
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270