whole, the two hours when one was perfectly and wildly
happy seemed worth the subsequent headache. For
many men in the quarter, unmarried and with no future
to think of, the weekly drinking-bout was the one thing
that made life worth living.
XVIII
CHARLIE told us a good story one Saturday night in the
bistro
. Try and picture him-drunk, but sober enough to
talk consecutively. He bangs on the zinc bar and yells for
silence:
"Silence,
messieurs et dames-silence, I implore you!
Listen to this story, that I am about to tell you. A
memorable story, an instructive story, one of the
souvenirs of a refined and civilised life. Silence,
messieurs
et dames
!
"It happened at a time when I was hard up. You
know what that is like-how damnable, that a man of
refinement should ever be in such a condition. My
money had not come from home; I had pawned every-
thing, and there was nothing open to me except to
work, which is a thing I will not do. I was living with a
girl at the time-Yvonne her name was-a great half-witted
peasant girl like Azaya there, with yellow hair and fat
legs. The two of us had eaten nothing in three days.
Mon
Dieu
, what sufferings! The girl used to walk up and
down the room with her hands on her belly, howling
like a dog that she was dying of starvation. It was
terrible.
"But to a man of intelligence nothing is impossible. I
propounded to myself the question, 'What is the easiest
way to get money without working?' And immediately
the answer came: 'To get money easily one must be a
woman. Has not every woman something to sell?' And
then, as I lay reflecting upon the things I should do if I
were a woman, an idea came into my head. I
remembered the Government maternity hospitals-you
know the Government maternity hospitals? They are
places where women who are enceinte are given meals
free and no questions are asked. It is done to encourage
childbearing. Any woman can go there and demand a
meal, and she is given it immediately.
«
'Mon Dieu!' I thought, 'if only I were a woman! I
would eat at one of those places every day. Who can
tell whether a woman is enceinte or not, without an
examination?' 7
"I turned to Yvonne. 'Stop that insufferable
bawling.' I said, 'I have thought of a way to get food.'
" 'How?' said she.
" 'It is simple,' I said. "Go to the Government
maternity hospital. Tell them you are enceinte and ask for
food. They will give you a good meal and ask no
questions.'
« Yvonne was appalled.
'Mais, mon Dieu,' she cried, 'I
am not
enceinte!'
" 'Who cares?' I said. 'That is easily remedied. What
do you need except a cushion-two cushions if
necessary? It is an inspiration from heaven, ma chére.
Don't waste it.'
"Well, in the end I persuaded her, and then we
borrowed a cushion and I got her ready and took her to
the maternity hospital. They received her with open
arms. They gave her cabbage soup, a ragoût of beef, a
purée of potatoes, bread and cheese and beer, and all
kinds of advice about her baby. Yvonne gorged till she
almost burst her skin. and mangaed to slip some of the
bread and cheese into her pocket for me. I took her there
every day until I had money again. My intelligence had
saved us.
"Everything went well until a year later. I was with
Yvonne again, and one day we were walking down the
Boulevard Port Royal, near the barracks. Suddenly
Yvonne's mouth fell open, and she began turning red
and white, and red again.
"
'Mon Dieu!' she cried, 'look at that who is coming! It
is the nurse who was in charge at the maternity hospital.
I am ruined!'
" 'Quick!' I said, 'run!' But it was too late. The nurse
had recognised Yvonne, and she came straight up to us,
smiling. She was a big fat woman with a
gold pince-nez and red cheeks like the cheeks of an
apple. A motherly, interfering kind of woman.
" 'I hope you are well,
ma petite?' she said kindly.
'And your baby, is he well too? Was it a boy, as you
were hoping?'
« Yvonne had begun trembling so hard that I had to
grip her arm. 'No,' she said at last.
" 'Ah, then,
evidemment, it was a girl?'
"Thereupon Yvonne, the idiot, lost her head com-
pletely. 'No,' she actually said again!
"The nurse was taken aback.
'Comment!' she ex-
claimed, 'neither a boy nor a girl! But how can that be?'
"Figure to yourselves,
messieurs et dames, it was a
dangerous moment. Yvonne had turned the colour of a
beetroot and she looked ready to burst into tears; another
second and she would have confessed everything.
Heaven knows what might have happened. But as for
me, I had kept my head; I stepped in and saved the
situation.
" 'It was twins,' I said calmly.
" 'Twins!' exclaimed the nurse. And she was so
pleased that she took Yvonne by the shoulders and