his time. He rose late, and cursed the tiresome forenoons which he passed in the deserted Příkopí. After dinner he sat with his companions in the coffeehouse, where jokes, jests, anecdotes were told, and the daily papers run over, and then he went back to the Příkopí.
Here Jiří was in his element. A chain of lamps flickered in the darkness. Feminine eyes glistened from behind curtains. The rustling of dresses, the conversation, the clatter of steps, the passing of yarious forms gave him a pleasant thrill. He exchanged greetings with his feminine friends. Here and there he dropped a few words in passing: a new debauch, a new scandal, sometimes a new toilet. . . .
Then, towards seven, he visited the theatre,—not from any predilection, but because some of his friends went there, and because the next day he could wittily criticise the play and the actors. The ballet, in particular, was honored by his hearty applause.
