alone and they shall see." Scarcely had he entered than he began to
write, anger spurring him on. In an hour he had finished an article,
which was a chaos of absurd matter, and took it boldly to the
office. Duroy handed Forestier his manuscript. "Here is the rest of
Algeria."

"Very well, I will hand it to the manager. That will do."

When Duroy and Saint-Potin, who had some political information to
look up, were in the hall, the latter asked: "Have you been to the
cashier's room?"

"No, why?"

"Why? To get your pay? You should always get your salary a month in
advance. One cannot tell what might happen. I will introduce you to
the cashier."

Duroy drew his two hundred francs together with twenty-eight francs
for his article of the preceding day, which, in addition to what
remained to him of his salary from the railroad office, left him
three hundred and forty francs. He had never had so much, and he
thought himself rich for an indefinite time. Saint-Potin took him to
the offices of four or five rival papers, hoping that the news he
had been commissioned to obtain had been already received by them
and that he could obtain it by means of his diplomacy.

When evening came, Duroy, who had nothing more to do, turned toward
the Folies-Bergeres, and walking up to the office, he said: "My name
is Georges Duroy. I am on the staff of 'La Vie Francaise.' I was