Rue de Balzac. As a matter of fact I had no other
intention than to see Juliette's house, to look into
its windows and perhaps come across Celestine or
Mother Souchard. . . . . More than twenty times I
passed back and forth on the sidewalk, in front of it.
The windows of the dining room were open, and I
could see the copper plates which were shining in the
shadow. A rug was hanging from the balcony. The
windows of the bedroom were closed. What was
there behind these closed shutters, behind this white
impenetrable wall? A disarranged, untidy bed, the
heavy odor of carnal passion, and two outstretched
bodies asleep. The body of Juliette. . . and who else?
The body of Mr. Everybody. . . . A body that Juliette
had picked up casually under a cabaret table or on
the street! They were asleep, sated with lust! The
caretaker came to shake the rug on the sidewalk. I
walked away, for ever since I had left the apartment
I avoided the mocking glance of this old woman, I
blushed every time my eyes met hers, bulging and
vicious, seeming to jeer at my misfortune. . . . When
she was finished I returned to the place and stood
there for a long time to fret against this wall behind
which something horrible was going on and which
guarded the cruel mystery of a sphinx crouched upon
the sky. Suddenly, as if struck by thunder, a mad
fury shook me from head to foot and, without realizing what I was going to do, without even thinking of it, I entered the house, went up the stairway and rang at Juliette's door. It was Mother Souchard who
opened the door for me.
"Tell Madame," I shouted, "tell Madame that I want to see her immediately, I want to speak to her. Also tell her that if she does not come out I'll go and find her myself, I'll drag her out of her bed, do you hear! Tell her. . , ."
