Ah! how fast that night was gone! How the hours sped by, no doubt frightened to hear love shrieking with a horrible voice of one who is damned. Disasters followed one another and soon reached their climax. The promissory notes that I had given Juliette's jeweler remained unpaid. I had a hard time borrowing enough money to satisfy our everyday needs. My father had left some uncollected debts at Saint-Michel. Generous and kind-hearted, he liked to help out small farmers in a pinch. Pitilessly I started the process servers after these poor devils, causing them to sell their hovels, their piece of land, the things with the aid of which they made a miserable living, depriving themselves of everything. In the shops where I still had credit I bought things which I immediately resold at a very low price. I stooped to putting through the most questionable deals. My brains teemed with original plans of blackmail, and I tired Jesselin with my endless requests of money. Finally one day I went to see Lirat. I needed five hundred francs that evening, and I went to Lirat, deliberately, boldly! In his presence, however, in that studio full of painful memories, my self-assurance deserted me and I felt a sense of belated shame. I was with Lirat a quarter of an hour, without venturing to explain to him the thing that I expected of his friendship.... Of his friendship!... At last I made up my mind to go. "Well, good bye, Lirat!" "Good bye, my friend." "Ah! I forgot. Could you lend me five hundred francs? I am expecting my farm rents. They are overdue." And I added rapidly: "I'll give them back to you tomorrow--tomorrow morning." Lirat fixed his glance on me for a moment. I can still see that glance. It was truly sorrowful. "Five hundred francs!" he said. "Where in the devil do you expect me to get them? Have I ever had five hundred francs?" I insisted, repeating: "I'll give them back to you tomorrow ... tomorrow morning." "But I haven't got them, my poor Mintié. I have only two hundred francs left. Would that do you any good?" I was thinking that these two hundred francs which he offered meant to him a whole month's subsistence. I answered with a bleeding heart: "Well, all right! All the same! I'll give them back to you tomorrow ... tomorrow morning." "That is all right!" At that moment I would have wished to throw myself on Lirat's neck, to beg his pardon, to shout: "No, no I don't want this money!" And like a thief I took it away with me. CHAPTER VII