It now became my anxious and difficult task to lure Simard away from
this cafe and its absinthe. Glass after glass of the poison had
brought him up almost to his former intellectual level, but now it
was shoving him rapidly down the hill again. I must know where his
room was situated, yet if I waited much longer the man would be in a
state of drunken imbecility which would not only render it impossible
for him to guide me to his room, but likely cause both of us to be
arrested by the police. I tried persuasion, and he laughed at me; I
tried threats, whereat he scowled and cursed me as a renegade from
England. At last the liquor overpowered him, and his head sunk on the
metal table and the dark blue cap fell to the floor.
* * * * *
I was in despair, but now received a lesson which taught me that if a
man leaves a city, even for a short time, he falls out of touch with
its ways. I called the waiter, and said to him,--
'Do you know my friend here?'
'I do not know his name,' replied the garcon, 'but I have seen him
many times at this cafe. He is usually in this state when he has
money.'
'Do you know where he lives? He promised to take me with him, and I am
a stranger in Paris.
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