white nights, he watched these girls at their toilette, saw them go through their paces, surprised their instinctive terror at the imminent visit of the doctor; he noted, in return, their easy air of familiarity, almost that of woman to woman, with the androgynal hairdresser.
More than any other familiar or purveyor to these places, Gay the Dalmatian interested him. This industrious celibate, clerk at one hundred and fifty francs a month in the office of a ship-broker, drew annually fifteen to twenty thousand francs in commissions from the chief houses in the Riet-Dijk. He brought to the better houses the captains to whom his employers, the brokers, had attached him as guide during their stay in Antwerp. Gay spoke all languages, even the dialects and idiom of minor countries and the slang of the most distant people. Gay brought to these delicate transactions a probity that was highly appreciated. There were never any errors in his bookkeeping. When he came, every three months, to collect his commissions, the procurers paid their intelligent and wide-awake recruiter unhesitatingly. On these occasions Gay would accept a glass of wine or a liqueur, to drink the health of Madame, Monsieur, and their boarders.
Gay's discretion was proverbial. With his little red mustache, his broad grin, his neat appearance and his affable manner. Gay had no enemies among his colleagues. To him they respectfully applied the English adage: The right man in the right place; the man worthy of his place, the place worthy of the man.
One month after the departure of the emigrants, Paridael was accosted one morning on the Plaine Falcon by Gay, who, rushed and out of breath, threw this terrible news full in his face:
