Toward evening, late, I heard a knock at my door. I lay stretched upon my bed, half naked, stupefied by drink.

"Who is there? " I cried.

«'ItisI."

"Who are you? "

"The waiter."

I rose, with my loosened hair falling from my shoulders, and opened the door.

"What do you -want? "

The waiter smiled. He was a tall fellow with red hair, whom I had met several times on the stairs, and who always looked at me strangely.

"What do you want? " I repeated.

The waiter smiled again, apparently embarrassed, and, rolling in his fat fingers the bottom of his blue apron, covered with grease spots, he stammered :

"Mam'zelle . . ." . . .

He surveyed my person with a sort of dismal desire.

"Well, come in, you brute,".! cried, suddenly.

And pushing him into my room, I closed the door again, violently.

Oh ! misery me !

The waiter was discharged. I never knew his name!

I should not like to leave the subject of Mme. Paulhat-Durand's employment-bureau,