Fyodor Dostoevsky

then! Probably the words were concerning Mlle. Blanche.

Certainly something decisive is approaching.

VII

In the morning I sent for the maitre d'hotel, and explained to

him that, in future, my bill was to be rendered to me

personally. As a matter of fact, my expenses had never been so

large as to alarm me, nor to lead me to quit the hotel; while,

moreover, I still had 16o gulden left to me, and--in them--yes, in

them, perhaps, riches awaited me. It was a curious fact, that,

though I had not yet won anything at play, I nevertheless acted,

thought, and felt as though I were sure, before long, to become

wealthy-- since I could not imagine myself otherwise.

Next, I bethought me, despite the earliness of the hour, of going

to see Mr. Astley, who was staying at the Hotel de l'Angleterre

(a hostelry at no great distance from our own). But suddenly De

Griers entered my room. This had never before happened, for of

late that gentleman and I had stood on the most strained and

distant of terms--he attempting no concealment of his contempt

for me (he even made an express, point of showing it), and I

having no reason to desire his company. In short, I detested

him. Consequently, his entry at the present moment the more

astounded me. At once I divined that something out of the way

was on the carpet.

He entered with marked affability, and began by complimenting me

on my room. Then, perceiving that I had my hat in my hands, he

inquired whither I was going so early; and, no sooner did he hear

that I was bound for Mr. Astley's than he stopped, looked grave,

and seemed plunged in thought.

He was a true Frenchman insofar as that, though he could be

lively and engaging when it suited him, he became insufferably

dull and wearisome as soon as ever the need for being lively and

engaging had passed. Seldom is a Frenchman NATURALLY civil: he

is civil only as though to order and of set purpose. Also, if he

thinks it incumbent upon him to be fanciful, original, and out

of the way, his fancy always assumes a foolish, unnatural vein,

for the reason that it is compounded of trite, hackneyed forms.

In short, the natural Frenchman is a conglomeration of

commonplace, petty, everyday positiveness, so that he is the

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