X 
  
ONE O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING 
  
  
AT last alone. One hears no more of any-
thing but the wheels of some belated and ex-
hausted cabs. For some hours we shall be lords 
of silence, if not rest. At last the tyranny of the 
human countenance disappears, and I shall not 
suffer except from myself. 
At last! it is then allowed me to take mine 
ease in a bath of shadows. First let me double-
lock the door. It seems to me that this turning 
of the key will intensify my solitude and 
strengthen the barricades that separate me 
from the world. 
Horrible life; horrible town! Let us go over 
the day’s work. I saw several men of letters, 
one of whom asked me if it was possible to go 
to Russia by land. He doubtless thought Russia 
was an island. I disputed enthusiastically with 
the editor of a review who replied to every ob-
jection: “This is an honest newspaper;”—
implying that all other newspapers were edited 
by scoundrels. I saluted a score of people, of 
whom I do not know fifteen. I scattered hand-