"But you have not always been like that?"
"Pardon me, sir; ever since I left college."
"That is not a proper life to lead, my dear sir; it is simple horrible. Come, you must indeed have done something, you must have loved something, you must have friends."
"No; I get up at noon, I come here, I have my breakfast, I drink my 'bock,' I remain until the evening, I have my dinner, I drink 'bock.' Then about one in the morning, I return to my couch, because the place closes up. And it is this latter that embitters me more than anything. For the last ten years, I have passed six years on this bench, in my corner; and the other four in my bed, never changing. I talk sometimes with the habitues."
"But on arriving in Paris what did you do at first?"
"I paid my devoirs to the Café de Medicis."
"What next?"
"Next? I crossed the water and came here."
"Why did you even take that trouble?"
"What do you mean? One cannot remain all one's life in the Latin Quarter. The students make too much noise. But I do not move about any longer. Waiter, a 'bock.'"