for dressing-gown. This gay garment had been left at the artist's
lodging, one masked-ball night, by a _folie_, who was fool enough to let
herself be entrapped by the deceitful promises of Schaunard when,
disguised as a marquis, he rattled in his pocket a seducingly sonorous
dozen of crowns--theatrical money punched out of a lead plate and
borrowed of a property-man. Having thus made his home toilette, the
artist proceeded to open his blind and window. A solar ray, like an
arrow of light, flashed suddenly into the room, and compelled him to
open his eyes that were still veiled by the mists of sleep. At the same
moment the clock of a neighbouring church struck five.

"It is the Morn herself!" muttered Schaunard; "astonishing, but"--and he
consulted an almanac nailed to the wall--"not the less a mistake. The
results of science affirm that at this season of the year the sun ought
not to rise till half-past five: it is only five o'clock, and there he
is! A culpable excess of zeal! The luminary is wrong; I shall have to
make a complaint to the longitude-office. However, I must begin to be a
little anxious. Today is the day after yesterday, certainly; and since
yesterday was the seventh, unless old Saturn goes backward, it must be
the eighth of April today. And if I may believe this paper," continued
Schaunard, going to read an official notice-to-quit posted on the wall,
"today, therefore, at twelve precisely, I ought to have evacuated the
premises, and paid into the hands of my landlord, Monsieur Bernard, the
sum of seventy-five francs for three quarters' rent due, which he
demands of me in very bad handwriting. I had hoped--as I always do--that
Providence would take the responsibility of discharging this debt, but
it seems it hasn't had time. Well, I have six hours before me yet. By
making good use of them, perhaps--to work! to work!"

He was preparing to put on an overcoat, originally of a long-haired,