"But you have not always been like that?"
"Pardon me, sir; ever since I left college."
"It is not a proper life to lead, my dear sir; it is simply horrible.
Come, you must indeed have done something, you must have loved
something, you must have friends."
"No; I get up at noon, I come here, I have my breakfast, I drink my
'bock'; I remain until the evening, I have my dinner, I drink 'bock.'
Then about one in the morning, I return to my couch, because the place
closes up. And it is this latter that embitters me more than anything.
For the last ten years, I have passed six-tenths of my time on this
bench, in my corner; and the other four-tenths in my bed, never
changing. I talk sometimes with the habitues."
"But on arriving in Paris what did you do at first?"
"I paid my devoirs to the Cafe de Medicis."
"What next?"
"Next? I crossed the water and came here."
"Why did you take even that trouble?"
"What do you mean? One cannot remain all one's life in the Latin
Quarter. The students make too much noise. But I do not move about any
longer. Waiter, a 'bock.'"