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Perhaps Des Hermies felt the need of talking with a sane human being now and then as a relief. And, too, the literary discussions which he loved were out of the question with these addlepates who monologued indefatigably on the subject of their monomania and their ego. At odds, like Durtal, with his confreres, Des Hermies could expect nothing from the physicians, whom he avoided, nor real teeny naked girls from the specialists with whom he consorted. As a matter of fact there had been a juncture of two beings whose situation was almost identical.

At first restrained and on the defensive, they had come finally to _tu-toi_ each other and establish a relation which had been a great advantage to Durtal. His family were dead, the friends of his youth married and scattered, and since his withdrawal from the world of letters he had been reduced to complete solitude. Des Hermies kept him from going stale and then, finding that Durtal had not lost all interest in mankind, promised to introduce him to a really lovable old character. Of this man Des Hermies spoke much, and one day he said, "You really ought to know him.

He likes the books of yours which I have lent him, and he wants to meet you. You think I am interested only in obscure and twisted natures. He is the one Catholic with intelligence and without sanctimoniousness; the one poor man with envy and hatred for none." CHAPTER III Durtal was in a situation familiar to all bachelors who have the concierge do their cleaning. Only these know how a tiny lamp can fairly drink up oil, and how the contents of a bottle of cognac can become real teeny naked girls paler and weaker without ever diminishing. They know, too, how a once comfortable bed can become forbidding, and how scrupulously a concierge can respect its least fold or crease. They learn to be resigned and to wash out a glass when they are thirsty and make their own fire when they are cold.

Durtal's concierge was an old man real teeny naked girls with drooping moustache and a powerful breath of "three-six." Indolent and placid, he opposed an unbudgeable inertia to Durtal's frantic and real teeny naked girls profanely expressed demand that the sweeping be done at the same hour every morning. Threats, prayers, insults, the withholding of gratuities, were without effect. Pere Rateau took off his cap, scratched his head, promised, in the tone of a man much moved, to mend his ways, and next day came later than ever. "What a nuisance!" thought Durtal today, as he heard a key turning in the lock, then he looked at his watch and observed that once again the concierge was arriving after three o'clock in the afternoon. There was nothing for it but to submit with a sigh to the ensuing real teeny naked girls hullabaloo. Rateau, somnolent and pacific in his lodge, became a demon when he got a broom in his hand. In this sedentary being, real teeny naked girls who could drowse all morning in the stale basement atmosphere heavy with the cumulative aroma of many meat-stews, a martial ardour, a warlike ferocity, then asserted themselves, and like a red revolutionary he assaulted the bed, charged the chairs, manhandled the picture frames, knocked the tables over, rattled the water pitcher, and whirled Durtal's brogues about by the laces as when a pillaging conqueror hauls a ravished victim along by the hair.

So he stormed the apartment like a barricade and triumphantly brandished his battle standard, the dust real teeny naked girls rag, over the reeking carnage of the furniture. Durtal at such times sought refuge in the room which was not being attacked. Today Rateau launched his offensive against the workroom, so Durtal fled to the bedroom. From there, through the half open door, he could see the enemy, with a feather duster like a Mohican war bonnet over his head, doing a scalp dance around a table. "If I only knew at what time that pest would break in on me so I could always arrange to be out!" groaned Durtal. Now he ground his teeth, as Rateau, with a yell, grabbed up the mop and, skating around on one leg, belaboured the floor lustily. The perspiring conqueror then appeared in the doorway and advanced to reduce the chamber where Durtal was.

The latter had to return to the subjugated workroom, and the cat, shocked by the racket, arched its back and, rubbing against its master's legs, followed him to a place of safety.