d and soft, without life,
expressionless; Forestier's fat and warm.

His friend whispered to him: "To-morrow at three o'clock; do not
forget."

"Never fear!"

When he reached the staircase, he felt like running down, his joy was
so great; he went down two steps at a time, but suddenly on the second
floor, in the large mirror, he saw a gentleman hurrying on, and he
slackened his pace, as much ashamed as if he had been surprised in a
crime.

He surveyed himself some time with a complacent smile; then taking
leave of his image, he bowed low, ceremoniously, as if saluting some
grand personage.

CHAPTER III.

FIRST ATTEMPTS

When Georges Duroy reached the street, he hesitated as to what he
should do. He felt inclined to stroll along, dreaming of the future and
inhaling the soft night air; but the thought of the series of articles
ordered by M. Walter occurred to him, and he decided to return home at
once and begin work. He walked rapidly along until he came to Rue
Boursault. The tenement in which he lived was occupied by twenty
families--families of workingmen--and as he mounted the staircase he
experienced a sensation of disgust and a desire to live as wealthy men
do. Duroy's room was on the fifth floor. He entered it, opened his
window, and looked out: the view was anything but prepossessing.

He turned away, thinking: "This won't do. I must go to work." So he
placed his light upon the table and began to write. He dipped his pen
into the ink and wrote at the head of his paper in a bold hand:
"Souvenirs of a Soldier in Africa." Then he cast about for the first
phrase. He rested his head upon his hand and stared at the blank sheet
before him. What should he say? Suddenly he thought: "I must begin with
my departure," and he wrote: "In 1874, about the fifteenth of May, when
exhausted France was recruiting after the catastrophe of the terrible
years--" Here he stopped short, not knowing how to introduce his
subject. After a few minutes' reflection, he decided to lay aside that
page until the following day, and to write a description of Algiers. He
began: "Algiers is a very clean city--" but he could not continue.
After an effort he added: "It is inhabited partly by Arabs." Then he
threw his pen upon the table and arose. He glanced around his miserable
room; mentally he rebelled against his poverty and resolved to leave
the next day.

Suddenly the desire to work came on him, and he tried to begin the
articl