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Over
the
wall
,
to
my
left
,
there
appeared
a
face
.
An
egg
-
shaped
head
,
partially
covered
with
suspiciously
black
hair
,
two
immense
moustaches
,
and
a
pair
of
watchful
eyes
.
It
was
our
mysterious
neighbour
,
Mr
.
Porrott
.
He
broke
at
once
into
fluent
apologies
.
"
I
demand
of
you
a
thousand
pardons
,
monsieur
.
I
am
without
defence
.
For
some
months
now
I
cultivate
the
marrows
.
This
morning
suddenly
I
enrage
myself
with
these
marrows
.
I
send
them
to
promenade
themselves
–
alas
!
not
only
mentally
but
physically
.
I
seize
the
biggest
.
I
hurl
him
over
the
wall
.
Monsieur
,
I
am
ashamed
.
I
prostrate
myself
.
"
Before
such
profuse
apologies
,
my
anger
was
forced
to
melt
.
After
all
,
the
wretched
vegetable
hadn
’
t
hit
me
.
But
I
sincerely
hoped
that
throwing
large
vegetables
over
walls
was
not
our
new
friend
’
s
hobby
.
Such
a
habit
could
hardly
endear
him
to
us
as
a
neighbour
.
The
strange
little
man
seemed
to
read
my
thoughts
.
"
Ah
!
no
,
"
he
exclaimed
.
"
Do
not
disquiet
yourself
.
It
is
not
with
me
a
habit
.
But
you
can
figure
to
yourself
,
monsieur
,
that
a
man
may
work
towards
a
certain
object
,
he
may
labour
and
toil
to
attain
a
certain
kind
of
leisure
and
occupation
,
and
then
find
that
,
after
all
,
he
yearns
for
the
old
busy
days
,
and
the
old
occupations
that
he
thought
himself
so
glad
to
leave
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
I
said
slowly
.
"
I
fancy
that
that
is
a
common
enough
occurrence
.
I
myself
am
perhaps
an
instance
.
A
year
ago
I
came
into
a
legacy
–
enough
to
enable
me
to
realize
a
dream
.
I
have
always
wanted
to
travel
,
to
see
the
world
.
Well
,
that
was
a
year
ago
,
as
I
said
,
and
–
I
am
still
here
.
"
My
little
neighbour
nodded
.
"
The
chains
of
habit
.
We
work
to
attain
an
object
,
and
the
object
gained
,
we
find
that
what
we
miss
is
the
daily
toil
.
And
mark
you
,
monsieur
,
my
work
was
interesting
work
.
The
most
interesting
work
there
is
in
the
world
.
"
"
Yes
?
"
I
said
encouragingly
.
For
the
moment
the
spirit
of
Caroline
was
strong
within
me
.
"
The
study
of
human
nature
,
monsieur
!
"
"
Just
so
,
"
I
said
kindly
.
Clearly
a
retired
hairdresser
.
Who
knows
the
secrets
of
human
nature
better
than
a
hairdresser
?
"
Also
,
I
had
a
friend
–
a
friend
who
for
many
years
never
left
my
side
.
Occasionally
of
an
imbecility
to
make
one
afraid
,
nevertheless
he
was
very
dear
to
me
.
Figure
to
yourself
that
I
miss
even
his
stupidity
.
His
naivete
,
his
honest
outlook
,
the
pleasure
of
delighting
and
surprising
him
by
my
superior
gifts
–
all
these
I
miss
more
than
I
can
tell
you
.
"
"
He
died
?
"
I
asked
sympathetically
.
"
Not
so
.
He
lives
and
flourishes
–
but
on
the
other
side
of
the
world
.
He
is
now
in
the
Argentine
.
"
"
In
the
Argentine
,
"
I
said
enviously
.
