bread. 

 At last, sated with luxuries, I bade adieu to my marraine and allowed t-d to conduct me (I going first, as always) upstairs and into a little den whose interior boasted two mattresses, a man sitting at the table, and a newspaper in the hands of the man. 

 “C’est un Américain,” t-d said by way of introduction. The newspaper detached itself from the man who said: “He’s welcome indeed: make yourself at home, Mr. American”—and bowed himself out. My captor immediately collapsed on one mattress. 

 I asked permission to do the same on the other, which favor was sleepily granted. With half-shut eyes my Ego lay and pondered: the delicious meal it had just enjoyed; what was to come; the joys of being a great criminal … then, being not at all inclined to sleep, I read Le Petit Parisien quite through, even to Les Voies Urinaires. 

 Which reminded me—and I woke up t-d and asked: “May I visit the vespasienne?” 

 “Downstairs,” he replied fuzzily, and readjusted his slumbers. 

 There was no one moving about in the little court. I lingered somewhat on the way upstairs. The stairs were abnormally dirty. When I reentered, t-d was roaring to himself. I read the journal through again. It must have been about three o’clock. 

 Suddenly t-d woke up, straightened and buckled his personality, and murmured: “It’s time, come on.” 

 Le bureau de Monsieur le Ministre was just around the corner, as it proved. Before the door stood the patient F.I.A.T. I was ceremoniously informed by t-d that we would wait on the steps. 

 Well! Did I know any more?—the American driver wanted to know. 

 Having proved to my own satisfaction that my fingers could still roll a pretty good cigarette, I answered: “No,” between puffs. 

 The American drew nearer and whispered spectacularly: “Your friend is upstairs. I think they’re examining him.” 

 T-d got this; and though his rehabilitated dignity had accepted the “makin’s” from its prisoner, it became immediately incensed: 

 “That’s enough,” he said sternly. 

 And dragged me tout-à-coup upstairs, where I met B. and his t-d coming out of the bureau door. B. looked peculiarly 

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