I felt myself seized by the desire to look smart.
Without saying a word to my mother, for I had my own plans in mind, I went up to the loft; I locked myself in there, so as to be undisturbed in my search; and then I opened the chest.
It contained clothing fashionable enough to satisfy the most fastidious taste: from a figured satin vest to a scarlet waistcoat braided with gold; from rep breeches to pantaloons of leather.
But, of more importance still, at the bottom of that mysterious press, under all these clothes, were the famous red paper-covered volumes which I had been so expressly forbidden to read.
I immediately opened the first that fell into my hands, and I read:
"Aventures du Chevalier de Faublas."
The title did not convey much to my mind, but the engravings taught me rather more.
A score of lines which I devoured taught me more than the engravings.
I gathered up the first four volumes, which I hid, carefully spread out over my chest, over which I buttoned my waistcoat; and I went down on tiptoe. I went along M. Lafarge's back lane rather than pass by the shop, and I gained the park at a run. I hid myself in one of the darkest and remotest parts of it, where I was quite certain I should not be disturbed, and then I began to read.
Chance had sometimes put obscene books in my hands.