"'Have you ever been committed for trial, Bréloc?' "This exhausted my patience. "'And you?' said I. "The commissaire sprang to his feet. "'You are a blackguard!' he cried. "'And you are an idiot!' I retorted. "At that moment I thought my last hour had come. The commissaire bounded toward me, flushed and foaming with rage. Under his bushy eyebrows I could see the glistening of his wild eyes. "'What are you saying?' he stammered. 'What are you saying?' "I attempted to utter a word, but he did not give me a chance. "'And I say this: that I am going to send you to jail; and it will not take a very long time! It is just the hour for the patrol wagon! Who on earth sent me up this dummy? Ah! you want to put on airs! Ah! you want to jeer at me, and at the law that I represent! Very well! you came to the wrong place!' "He brought down his fist violently on the papers lying on his table with each of his sentences, adding: "'Do I know you? Do I know who you are? You say that your name is Bréloc; I don't know anything about it! You say that you live at the Place Blanche. Where are the proofs of it? You say that you have twelve thousand francs income. Am I bound to believe you? Show me your twelve thousand francs! Hein! you would have a hard job to show them to me.' "I was stunned. "'All this is not very clear,' he concluded violently. 'I say, do you understand me, that it is not very clear, and I don't know if you did not steal it, that watch!' "'Steal it!' "'Yes, steal it! Anyhow, I am going to find out.' "The gendarmes, hearing the noise, had come into the room. He called out to them: "'Search this man!' "In a second they undressed me completely, even down to my socks. "'Ah! you want to be smart!' the commissaire repeated mockingly. 'Ah! you want to play smart! Look under his arms,' he said to the gendarmes. 'Search him well!'" At the recital of these indignities Bréloc's voice became overexcited. But I was laughing, nodding my head approvingly, because I could recognize in his recital the two implacable enemies of honest folk--the administration and the law. "Let me find another watch!" roared my unfortunate friend, with a closed fist as if threatening the future. A YOUNG GIRL'S DIARY BY MARCEL PRÉVOST [Illustration] _Marcel Prévost, a student of the psychology of women, born at Paris in 1862, is a graduate of the Polytechnic School, and was for several years connected with the manufacturing of tobacco. He retired from business in 1890 after having published three novels, and then wrote "Les Demi Vierges," which he turned into a successful play, and other novels, besides "Lettres de Femme," etc., and "Les Lettres à Françoise," 1902, intended for the instruction of young girls._