"What are you doing in Paris?" asked Forestier, Duroy shrugged his
shoulders.

"Dying of hunger, simply. When my time was up, I came hither to make
my fortune, or rather to live in Paris--and for six months I have
been employed in a railroad office at fifteen hundred francs a
year."

Forestier murmured: "That is not very much."

"But what can I do?" answered Duroy. "I am alone, I know no one, I
have no recommendations. The spirit is not lacking, but the means
are."

His companion looked at him from head to foot like a practical man
who is examining a subject; then he said, in a tone of conviction:
"You see, my dear fellow, all depends on assurance, here. A shrewd,
observing man can sometimes become a minister. You must obtrude
yourself and yet not ask anything. But how is it you have not found
anything better than a clerkship at the station?"

Duroy replied: "I hunted everywhere and found nothing else. But I
know where I can get three thousand francs at least--as riding-
master at the Pellerin school."

Forestier stopped him: "Don't do it, for you can earn ten thousand
francs. You will ruin your prospects at once. In your office at
least no one knows you; you can leave it if you wish to at any time.
But when you are once a riding-master all will be over. You might as
well be a butler in a house to which all Paris comes to dine. When