to help out small farmers in a pinch. Pitilessly I
started the process servers after these poor devils,
causing them to sell their hovels, their piece of land,
the things with the aid of which they made a miserable living, depriving themselves of everything. In the shops where I still had credit I bought things which I immediately resold at a very low price. I
stooped to putting through the most questionable
deals. My brains teemed with original plans of blackmail, and I tired Jesselin with my endless requests of money. Finally one day I went to see Lirat. I needed five hundred francs that evening, and I went to Lirat, deliberately, boldly! In his presence, however, in that
studio full of painful memories, my self-assurance
deserted me and I felt a sense of belated shame. I was
with Lirat a quarter of an hour, without venturing
to explain to him the thing that I expected of his
friendship. . . . Of his friendship! . . . At last I made
up my mind to go.
"Well, good bye, Lirat!"
"Good bye, my friend."
"Ah! I forgot. Could you lend me five hundred francs? I am expecting my farm rents. They are overdue."
And I added rapidly:
"I'll give them back to you tomorrow tomorrow morning."
Lirat fixed his glance on me for a moment. I can still see that glance. It was truly sorrowful.
"Five hundred francs!" he said. "Where in the devil do you expect me to get them? Have I ever had five hundred francs?"
I insisted, repeating:
"I'll give them back to you tomorrow. . . tomorrow morning."
"But I haven't got them, my poor Mintié, I have
