Ugh!
Those first days of our liberty were a trying time. To the external irritation of insects were added the mental anxieties of our situation. What, for instance, would happen to the twins if we were caught in that house? And, again, was Thémistoclé faithful? Would he be tempted by the reward offered for our recapture? At times we were not quite certain. He used to talk very gloomily about the risks and the cost of life.
"Everyone is starving," he used to say thoughtfully—"even the policemen go hungry for bribes. A friend of mine, a policeman, said to me the other day: 'For the love of Allah find somebody for me to arrest. Among all the guilty and the innocent in this town, surely you can find somebody that we could threaten to arrest? Then we would share the proceeds.'"
"What did you say to that?" I asked.
"I said," he answered thoughtfully, "that I would do my best."
"But what sort of man would you arrest?" I asked.
"Any sort of man. A drunkard perhaps, if I saw one, or a rich man, if I dared."
"Rich men are apt to be dangerous," said I meaningly.
"I know. But what can one do?" he asked, spreading out his hands. "One must live!"
"And let live," said I, thinking suddenly of the bugs, and wondering what Thémistoclé thought of them.