human shape, like a corpse. God, I was lost! I prayed to Him to have
pity on me. I thought that I was wise and content with my lot. I had
said to myself that I was free from the instinct of theft. Alas, alas,
it was not true, since I longed to take everything that was not mine.




CHAPTER II


The sound of the horn had ceased for some time. The street and the
houses had quieted down. Silence. I passed my hand over my forehead.
My fit of emotion was over. So much the better. I recovered my
balance by an effort of will-power.

I sat down at the table and took some papers out of my bag that I had
to look over and arrange.

Something spurred me on. I wanted to earn a little money. I could
then send some to my old aunt who had brought me up. She always waited
for me in the low-ceilinged room, where her sewing-machine, afternoons,
whirred, monotonous and tiresome as a clock, and where, evenings, there
was a lamp beside her which somehow seemed to look like herself.

Notes--the notes from which I was to draw up the report that would show
my ability and definitely decide whether I would get a position in
Monsieur Berton's bank--Monsieur Berton, who could do everything for me,
who had but to say a word, the god of my material life.