Lirat was seated at his table, writing a letter.
"May I finish this?" he said to me. "Just two more minutes and I'll be through."
He resumed writing. It was a relief not to feel upon myself the chill of his look. I took advantage of the fact that his back was turned to unburden my soul to him.
"I have not seen you for such a long time, my good Lirat."
"Why, yes, my dear Mintié!"
"I have moved."
"Ah, is that so!"
"I live on the Rue de Balzac."
"Nice place!"
I was suffocating.... I made a supreme effort to gather all my strength ... but by a strange aberration I thought I would succeed better by adopting a flippant method of approach. Upon my word of honor! I railed, yes, railed at myself.