easy for the air to make room for a stranger... who does not command the language well...

I felt it my duty to defend Gibran, so I cut Calmi short:

— But... Gibran means to play his card in the United States... and he is making his preparations for it... There he has friends who appreciate his gifts and take an interest in his affairs... and he commands English like a native, so he can move easily in the American milieu.

— I have an idea! said Calmi. You and Gibran could earn enormous sums of money... and here, in the heart of Paris!.. If we put on Oriental dress... and a turban... and tried a kind of portraiture with a touch of the strange and the mysterious about it, with the help of certain ladies and of shop owners experienced in the art of advertising... The air of Paris is fertile ground these days for things of that sort...

— Am I to understand from your words that you would have us practice charlatanry?! God forbid! God forbid!! I beg you, my friend, never to return to such 'distinguished' proposals — above all in front of Gibran!! And now let us forget what has passed; come, tell me how and why you came to Paris?

And my tone was plain, more like a command.

Calmi said:

— ... At the age of twenty. I had finished my studies at the University of Bucharest and inclined toward letters, and I grew so passionate about writing that I achieved some success, which swelled the hopes in my head — as happens at that age! I loved a girl madly, and she too returned my love, and we saw happiness only in the fulfillment of our hopes in marriage; but we struck against a frightful reality, and we were told flatly that our happiness could never be harvested, because

of the difference in our religions — for I am a Jew, and she a Christian, and a priest's daughter at that!.. And in the end they managed to marry her off — against her will — to a man she did not love... I went out of my mind; my nerves gave way; my reason took flight; and it seemed to me that everything outside the circle of nature was artificial... I counted up the artificialities and found them past numbering, and I saw people drowned in them above their heads... swimming as fish swim in the sea!... Woe to him whose neck stays under the yoke, groaning beneath its weight, and woe likewise to him who tries to break it, while in the hand of brutal, despotic fate are the goad and the whip!... After that crisis — do not ask me how much I suffered from it — I laid out a plan for writing a revolutionary romance, and I put the idea to a publisher, who answered me, aghast: 'Do you mean to wreck my house?' Had he only contented himself with weakening my resolve, the matter would have ended there; but he betrayed me and let the censor's office know what I was after... 'the spring's spout was broken'... and the news spread... and reached the rabbi and the men of religion, and they lost no time in approaching the heir apparent, Prince Ferdinand, and Princess Marie; and my friends advised me to flee to Paris, where my aunt had taken refuge with her children in similar circumstances, in which her husband had gone a victim of ignorance and injustice...

I broke into Calmi's story, mean-ing to end it there, and to lighten the shade of gloom that had settled over his face:

— You did well... 'Flight is two-thirds of valor!'

The tempest grew fiercer outside... and with each arrival at the café the cold air blew in upon us in anger... and there were girls —

like seabirds — hovering about us, asking for their daily bread!.. At last Dr. Caspar came back at a trot and told us that the patient had passed away. And after a moment's thought he added: The truth is, brothers, when a man dies, he really dies! And life on earth is nothing but a bit of rot!

Then he asked us whether Miss Martine had passed by the café, and when Calmi answered no, he sat down, nervously devouring a bowl of hot onion soup... after which he rose, visibly anxious, and went off, leaving Calmi and me sitting in the warm corner, which had emptied of customers because of the foulness of the weather...

After a silence Calmi began:

— As we were leaving Mr. Gibran's this morning, we saw a lady — American, I fancy — come swaying gracefully in... as if she were entering her own house... Woman alone, my friend, warms the desolate, cold air around a man... Woe to him whose home no woman warms.

— 'It strikes me you're feeling the cold!' I said to him: Rest easy, my friend; after the tempest the weather will settle and the days of fair skies will return... and the days of heavy heat as well!..

We both turned toward the entrance of the café, through which three girls had come — of the seabirds! — Miss Martine among them. Calmi called out to her and told her that the doctor had asked after her, and that he had seemed anxious and full of gloom... and had devoured a bowl of soup and gone... She said:

— I too have a craving for a bowl of hot soup — and her two com-panions seconded the same wish...

So Calmi clapped for the waiter and called out in a loud voice:

— Bring us five bowls, and a plate of fried potatoes, and a bottle of red wine...

(and in a low voice): Man does not live twice upon this earth!!..