"
Take this animal. You hear him, you are afraid of him, you smell and you
see him and you know him--but you do not touch him.
Or a man who makes us thank God for animals, Judas, as we called him: who
keeps his moustaches in press during the night (by means of a kind of
transparent frame which is held in place by a band over his head); who
grows the nails of his two little fingers with infinite care; has two
girls with both of whom he flirts carefully and wisely, without ever once
getting into trouble; talks in French; converses in Belgian; can speak
eight languages and is therefore always useful to Monsieur le
Surveillant--Judas with his shining horrible forehead, pecked with little
indentures; with his Reynard full-face--Judas with his pale almost
putrescent fatty body in the _douche_--Judas with whom I talked one night
about Russia, he wearing my _pelisse_--the frightful and impeccable
Judas: take this man. You see him, you smell the hot stale odour of
Judas' body; you are not afraid of him, in fact, you hate him; you hear
him and you know him. But you do not touch him.
And now take Surplice, whom I see and hear and smell and touch and even
taste, and whom I do not know.
Take him in dawn's soft squareness, gently stooping to pick chewed
cigarette ends from the spitty floor .
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