ut I did not hear the music. Slowly the desolate
loneliness of my position became clear to me. I knew that I could not
speak, but I would have given a part of my life to touch her hand with
mine and call her "sister." I sat through the opera until I could
stand it no longer. I felt that I was suffocating. Valentine's love
seemed like mockery, and I felt an almost uncontrollable impulse to
rise up and scream to the audience: "Here, here in your very midst, is
a tragedy, a real tragedy!" This impulse grew so strong that I became
afraid of myself, and in the darkness of one of the scenes I stumbled
out of the theatre. I walked aimlessly about for an hour or so, my
feelings divided between a desire to weep and a desire to curse. I
finally took a cab and went from cafe to cafe, and for one of the very
few times in my life drank myself into a stupor.

It was unwelcome news for me when my benefactor--I could not think of
him as employer--informed me that he was at last tired of Paris. This
news gave me, I think, a passing doubt as to his sanity. I had enjoyed
life in Paris, and, taking all things into consideration, enjoyed it
wholesomely. One thing which greatly contributed to my enjoyment was
the fact that I was an American. Americans are immensely popular in
Paris; and this is not due solely to the fact that they spend lots of
money there, for they spend just as much or more in London, and in
the latter city they are merely tolerated because they do spend. The
Londoner seems to think that Americans are people whose only claim to
be classed as civilized is that they have money, and the regrettable
thing about that is that the money is not English. But the French
are more logical and freer from prejudices than the British; so the
difference of attitude is easily explained. Only once in Paris did I
have cause to blush for my American citizenship. I had become quite
friendly with a young man from Luxemburg whom I had met at the big
cafe. He was a stolid, slow-witted fellow, but, as we say, with a
heart of gold. He and I grew attached to each other and were together
frequently. He was a great admirer of the United States and never grew
tired of talking to me about the country and asking for information.
It was his intention to try his fortune there some day. One night
he asked me in a tone of voice which indicated that he expected an
authoritative denial of an ugly rumor: "Did they really burn a man
alive in the United States?"