ABSTRACT
Full of such reflections, I made my way home, having some time before sent back the dragoman so that he should await me there. At last, I no longer always lose myself in the streets. The house was full of people. First, there were the cooks whom M. Jean had sent. They were calmly smoking under the vestibule, where they had had coffee served. Then Yousef the Jew, on the first floor, was completely given over to the delights of the narghile. On the terrace there were Hill more people making a great noise. I awakened the dragoman, who was enjoying his siesta in a farther room. He cried, like a man in despair:
