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The
sound
of
music
was
borne
up
on
the
wind
to
me
from
the
Students
'
Allée
.
It
was
therefore
past
two
o'clock
.
I
took
out
my
writing
materials
to
try
to
write
something
,
and
at
the
same
time
my
book
of
shaving-tickets
1
fell
out
of
my
pocket
.
I
opened
it
,
and
counted
the
tickets
;
there
were
six
.
"
The
Lord
be
praised
,
"
I
exclaimed
involuntarily
;
"
I
can
still
get
shaved
for
a
couple
of
weeks
,
and
look
a
little
decent
"
;
and
I
immediately
fell
into
a
better
frame
of
mind
on
account
of
this
little
property
which
still
remained
to
me
.
I
smoothed
the
leaves
out
carefully
,
and
put
the
book
safely
into
my
pocket
.
But
write
I
could
not
.
After
a
few
lines
nothing
seemed
to
occur
to
me
;
my
thought
ran
in
other
directions
,
and
I
could
not
pull
myself
together
enough
for
any
special
exertion
.
Everything
influenced
and
distracted
me
;
everything
I
saw
made
a
fresh
impression
on
me
.
Flies
and
tiny
mosquitoes
stick
fast
to
the
paper
and
disturb
me
.
I
blow
at
them
to
get
rid
of
them
--
blow
harder
and
harder
;
to
no
purpose
,
the
little
pests
throw
themselves
on
their
backs
,
make
themselves
heavy
,
and
fight
against
me
until
their
slender
legs
bend
.
They
are
not
to
be
moved
from
the
spot
;
they
find
something
to
hook
on
to
,
set
their
heels
against
a
comma
or
an
unevenness
in
the
paper
,
or
stand
immovably
still
until
they
themselves
think
fit
to
go
their
way
.
These
insects
continued
to
busy
me
for
a
long
time
,
and
I
crossed
my
legs
to
observe
them
at
leisure
.
All
at
once
a
couple
of
high
clarionet
notes
waved
up
to
me
from
the
bandstand
,
and
gave
my
thoughts
a
new
impulse
.
Despondent
at
not
being
able
to
put
my
article
together
,
I
replaced
the
paper
in
my
pocket
,
and
leant
back
in
the
seat
.
At
this
instant
my
head
is
so
clear
that
I
can
follow
the
most
delicate
train
of
thought
without
tiring
.
As
I
lie
in
this
position
,
and
let
my
eyes
glide
down
my
breast
and
along
my
legs
,
I
notice
the
jerking
movement
my
foot
makes
each
time
my
pulse
beats
.
I
half
rise
and
look
down
at
my
feet
,
and
I
experience
at
this
moment
a
fantastic
and
singular
feeling
that
I
have
never
felt
before
--
a
delicate
,
wonderful
shock
through
my
nerves
,
as
if
sparks
of
cold
light
quivered
through
them
--
it
was
as
if
catching
sight
of
my
shoes
I
had
met
with
a
kind
old
acquaintance
,
or
got
back
a
part
of
myself
that
had
been
riven
loose
.
A
feeling
of
recognition
trembles
through
my
senses
;
the
tears
well
up
in
my
eyes
,
and
I
have
a
feeling
as
if
my
shoes
are
a
soft
,
murmuring
strain
rising
towards
me
.
"
Weakness
!
"
I
cried
harshly
to
myself
,
and
I
clenched
my
fists
and
I
repeated
"
Weakness
!
"
I
laughed
at
myself
,
for
this
ridiculous
feeling
,
made
fun
of
myself
,
with
a
perfect
consciousness
of
doing
so
,
talked
very
severely
and
sensibly
,
and
closed
my
eyes
very
tightly
to
get
rid
of
the
tears
.
As
if
I
had
never
seen
my
shoes
before
,
I
set
myself
to
study
their
looks
,
their
characteristics
,
and
,
when
I
stir
my
foot
,
their
shape
and
their
worn
uppers
.
I
discover
that
their
creases
and
white
seams
give
them
expression
--
impart
a
physiognomy
to
them
.
Something
of
my
own
nature
had
gone
over
into
these
shoes
;
they
affected
me
,
like
a
ghost
of
my
other
I
--
a
breathing
portion
of
my
very
self
.
I
sat
and
toyed
with
these
fancies
a
long
time
,
perhaps
an
entire
hour
.
A
little
,
old
man
came
and
took
the
other
end
of
the
seat
;
as
he
seated
himself
he
panted
after
his
walk
,
and
muttered
:
"
Ay
,
ay
,
ay
,
ay
,
ay
,
ay
,
ay
,
ay
,
ay
,
ay
;
very
true
!
"
