It suddenly seemed to me as if the Eastern mind were taking possession of me, the poetical and legendary spirit of a people with simply and flowery thoughts. My head was full of the Bible and of The Arabian Nights; I could hear the prophets proclaiming miracles, and I could see princesses wearing silk drawers on the roofs of the palaces, while delicate perfumes, whose smoke assumed the forms of genii, were burning on silver dishes, and I said to Trémoulin:
"You are very fortunate in living here."
"I came here quite by accident," he replied.
"By accident?"
"Yes, accident and unhappiness brought me here."
"You have been unhappy?"
"Very unhappy."
He was standing in front of me, wrapped in his bournoose, and his voice had such a painful ring in it that it almost made me shiver; after a moment's silence, he continued:
"I will tell you what my troubles have been; perhaps it will do me good to speak about them."
"Let me hear them."