It was towards dark that I was suddenly recalled to
famine by a cold souse of rain, and sprang shivering to
my feet. For a moment I stood bewildered; the whole
train of my reasoning and dreaming passed afresh
through my mind; I was again tempted, drawn as if with
cords, by the image of the cabman's eating-house, and
again recoiled from the possibility of insult. "QUI
DORT DINE," thought I to myself; and took my homeward
way with wavering footsteps, through rainy streets in
which the lamps and the shop-windows now began to
gleam, still marshalling imaginary dinners as I went.
"Ah, Monsieur Dodd," said the porter, "there has been a
registered letter for you. The facteur will bring it
again to-morrow."
A registered letter for me, who had been so long
without one? Of what it could possibly contain I had no
vestige of a guess, nor did I delay myself guessing;
far less form any conscious plan of dishonesty: the
lies flowed from me like a natural secretion.
"Oh," said I, "my remittance at last! What a bother I
should have missed it! Can you lend me a hundred francs
until to-morrow?"
I had never attempted to borrow from the porter till
that moment; the registered letter was, besides, my
warranty; and he gave me what he had--three napoleons
and some francs in silver.
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