As I say, thingswere rolling along smoothly. Now and then Carl came
along with a jobfor me, travel articles which he hated to do himself. They
only paidfifty francs a piece, but they were easy to do because I had only
toconsult the back issues and revamp the old articles. People only readthese
things when they were sitting on a toilet or killing time in awaiting room.
The principal thing was to keep the adjectives well furbished_ the rest was
a matter of dates and statistics. If it was an importantarticle the head of
the department signed it himself; he was a half-witwho couldn't speak any
language well, but who knew how to find fault.If he found a paragraph that
seemed to him well written he would say_ "Now that's the way I want you to
write! That's beautiful. You havemy permission to use it in your book. "
These beautiful paragraphs wesometimes lifted from the encyclopaedia or an
old guide book. Some ofthem Carl did put into his book _ they had a
surrealistic character.
    Then one evening,after I had been out for a walk. I open the door and a
woman springsout of the bedroom. "So you're the writer ! " she exclaims at
once,and she looks at my beard as if to corroborate her impression. "Whata
horrid beard!" she says. "I think you people must be crazy aroundhere. "
Fillmore is trailing after her with a blanket in his hand. "She'sa princess,
" he says, smacking his lips as if he had just tasted somerare caviar. The
two of them were dressed for the street; I couldn'tunderstand what they were
doing with the bedclothes. And then it occurredto me immediately that
Fillmore must have dragged her into the bedroomto show her his laundry bag.
He always did that with a new woman, especiallyif she was a Franyuse. "No
tickee, no shirtee! " that's whatwas stitched on the laundry bag, and
somehow Fillmore had an obsessionfor explaining this motto to every female
who arrived. But this damewas not a Franyaise _ he made that clear to me at
once. She wasRussian _ and a princess, no less.
    He was bubblingover with excitement, like a child that has just found a
new toy. "Shespeaks five languages! " he said. obviously overwhelmed by such
an accomplishment.
    "Non. four!" she corrected promptly.
    "Well, four then.... Anyway, she's a damned intelligent girl. You ought
to hear herspeak. "
    The princesswas nervous _ she kept scratching her thigh and rubbing her
nose. "Whydoes he want to make his bed now?" she asked me abruptly. "Does he
thinkhe will get me that way? He's a big child. He behaves disgracefully.I
took him to a Russian restaurant and he danced like a nigger. " Shewiggled
her bottom to illustrate. "And he talks too much. Too loud.He talks nonsense.
" She swished about the room, examining the paintingsand the books, keeping
her chin well up all the time but scratchingherself intermittently. Now and
then she wheeled around like a battleshipand delivered a broadside. Fillmore
kept following her about with abottle in one hand and a glass in the other.
"Stop following me likethat! " she exclaimed. "And haven't you anything to
drink but this?Can't you get a bottle of champagne? I must have some
champagne. Mynerves! My nerves!"
    Fillmore triesto whisper a few words in my ear. "An actress ... a movie
star . . .some guy jilted her and she can't get over it .... I'm going to
gether cockeyed . . . . "
    " clear out then," I was saying, when the princess interrupted us with a
shout. "Whydo you whisper like that?" she cried, stamping her foot. "Don't
youknow that's not polite? And you, I thought you were going totake me out?
I must get drunk tonight, I have told you that already."
    "Yes, yes, "said Fillmore, "we're going in a minute. I just want another
drink."
    "You're a pig!" she yelled. "But you're a nice boy too. Only you're loud.
You haveno manners. " She turned to me. "Can I trust him to behave himself?I
must get drunk tonight but I don't want him to disgrace me. MaybeI will come
back here afterward. I would like to talk to you. You seemmore intelligent.
"
    As they wereleaving the princess shook my hand cordially and promisedto
come for dinner some evening _ "when I will be sober, " she said.
    "Fine! " I said."Bring another princess along _ or a countess, at least.
We change thesheets every Saturday. "
    About three inthe morning Fillmore staggers in ... alone. Lit up like an
ocean liner,and making a noise like a blind man with his cracked cane. Tap,
tap.tap, down the weary lane .... "Going straight to bed, " he says, ashe
marches past me. "Tell you all about it tomorrow. " He goesinside to his
room and throws back the covers. I hear him groaning _"what a woman! what a
woman! " In a second he's out again, with hishat on and the cracked cane in
his hand. "I knew something like thatwas going to happen. She's crazy! "
    He rummages aroundin the kitchen a while and then comes back to the
studio with a bottleof Anjou. I have to sit up and down a glass with him.
    As far as I canpiece the story together the whole thing started at the
Rond-Point desChamps Elysees where he had dropped off for a drink on his way
home.As usual at that hour the terrasse was crowded with buzzards.This one
was sitting right on the aisle with a pile of saucers in frontof her; she
was getting drunk quietly all by herself when Fillmore happenedalong and
caught her eye. "I'm drunk, " she giggled, "won't you sitdown?" And then, as
though it were the most natural thing in the worldto do, she began right off
the bat with the yarn about her movie director,how he had given her the
go-by and how she had thrown herself in theSeine and so forth and so on. She
couldn't remember any more which bridgeit was, only that there was a crowd
around when they fished her outof the water. Besides, she didn't see what
difference it made whichbridge she threw herself from _ why did he ask such
questions? She waslaughing hysterically about it. and then suddenly she had
a desire tobe off _ she wanted to dance. Seeing him hesitate she opens her
bagimpulsively and pulls out a hundred franc note. The next moment,
however,she decided that a hundred francs wouldn't go very far. "Haven't
youany money at all?" she said. No, he hadn't very much in his pocket,but he
had a checkbook at home. So they made a dash for the checkbookand then, of
course, I 　had tohappen in just as he was explaining to her the "No tickee,
no shirtee"business.
    On the way homethey had stopped off at the Poisson dOr for a little
snack which shehad washed down with a few vodkas. She was in her element
there witheveryone kissing her hand and murmuring Princesse, Princesse.Drunk
as she was, she managed to collect her dignity. "Don't wiggleyour behind
like that!" she kept saying, as they danced.
    It was Fillmore'sidea, when he brought her back to the studio, to stay
there. But, sinceshe was such an intelligent girl and so erratic, he had
decided to putup with her whims and postpone the grand event. He had even
visualizedthe prospect of running across another princess and bringing the
twoof them back. When they started out for the evening, therefore, he wasin
a good humor and prepared, if necessary, to spend a few hundred francson her.
After all, one doesn't run across a princess every day.
    This time shedragged him to another place, a place where she was still
better knownand where there would be no trouble in cashing a check, as she
said.Everybody was in evening clothes and there was more
spine-breaking,hand-kissing nonsense as the waiter escorted them to a table.
    In the middleof a dance she suddenly walks off the floor, with tears in
her eyes."What's the matter? " he said. "what did I do this time? " And
instinctivelyhe put his hand to his backside, as though perhaps it might
still bewiggling. "It's nothing. " she said. "You didn't do anything.
Come,you're a nice boy, " and with that she drags him on to the floor
againand begins to dance with abandon. "But what's the matter with you?"he
murmured. "It's nothing, " she repeated. "I saw somebody, that'sall. " And
then, with a sudden spurt of anger _ "why do you get me drunk?Don't you know
it makes me crazy?"
    "Have you gota check?" she says. "We must get out of here. " She called
the waiterover and whispered to him in Russian. "Is it a good check?" she
asked,when the waiter had disappeared. And then, impulsively:" Wait for
medownstairs in the cloakroom. I must telephone somebody. "
    After the waiterhad brought the change Fillmore sauntered leisurely
downstairs to thecloakroom to wait for her. He strode up anddown. humming
and whistling softly, and smacking his lips in anticipationof the caviar to
come. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. Still whistlingsoftly. When twenty
minutes had gone by and still no princess he atlast grew suspicious. The
cloakroom attendant said that she had leftlong ago. He dashed outside. There
was a nigger in livery standing therewith a big grin on his face. Did the
nigger know where she had breezedto? Nigger grins. Nigger says:"Ahheerd
Coupole, dassall sir! "
    At the Coupole,downstairs, he finds her sitting in front of a cocktail
with a dreamy,trancelike expression on her face. She smiles when she sees him.
    "Was that a decentthing to do. " he says, "to run away like that? You
might have toldme that you didn't like me . . . . "
    She flared upat this, got theatrical about it. And after a lot of
gushing she commencedto whine and slobber. "I'm crazy, " she blubbered. "And
you're crazytoo. You want me to sleep with you, and I don't want to sleep
with you." And then she began to rave about her lover, the movie director
whomshe had seen on the dance floor. That's why she had to run away fromthe
place. That's why she took drugs and got drunk every night. That'swhy she
threw herself in the Seine. She babbled on this way about howcrazy she was
and then suddenly she had an idea. "Let's go to Bricktop's!" There was a man
there whom she knew ... he had promised her a jobonce. She was certain he
would help her.
    "What's it goingto cost? asked Fillmore cautiously. "
    It would costa lot, she let him know that immediately. "But listen, if
you take meto Bricktop's, I promise to go home with you. " She was honest
enoughto add that it might cost him five or six hundred francs. "But I'm
worthit! You don't know what a woman I am. There isn't another women likeme
in all Paris . . . . "
    "That's whatyou think! " His Yankee blood was coming to the fore. "But
Idon't see it. I don't see that you're worth anything. You're just apoor
crazy son-of-a-bitch. Frankly, I'd rather give fifty francs tosome poor
French girl; at least they give you something in return. "
    She hit the ceilingwhen he mentioned the French girls. "Don't talk to me
about those women!I hate them! They're stupid . . . they're ugly . . .
they're mercenary.Stop it. I tell you! "

    In a momentshe had subsided again. She was on a new tack. "Darling, "
she murmured,"you don't know what I look like when I'm undressed. I'm
beautiful!" And she held her breasts with her vwo hands.
    But Fillmoreremained unimpressed. "You're a bitch! " he said coldly. "I
wouldn'tmind spending a few hundred francs on you, but you're crazy.
Youhaven't even washed your face. Your breath stinks. I don't givea damn
whether you're a princess or not ... I don't want any ofyour high-assed
Russian variety. You ought to get out in the streetand hustle for it. You're
no better than any little French girl.You're not as good. I wouldn't piss
away another sou on you. Youought to go to America _ that's the place for a
bloodsucking leechlike you .. . . "
    She didn'tseem to be at all put out by this speech. "I think you're just
alittle afraid of me, " she said.
    "Afraid ofyou? Of you?"
    "You're justa little boy. " she said. "You have no manners. | When you
knowme better you will talk differently .... Why don't | you try tobe nice?
If you don't want to go with me tonight, very well. I willbe at the
Rond-Point tomorrow between five and seven. I like you."
    "I don'tintend to be at the Rond-Point tomorrow, or any other night! I
don'twant to see you again . .. ever. I'm through with you. I'm goingout and
find myself a nice little French girl. You can go to hell!"
    She lookedat him and smiled wearily. "That's what you say now. But wait!
Waituntil you've slept with me. You don't know yet what a beautifulbody I
have. You think the French girls know how to make love .. . wait! I will
make you crazy about me. I like you. Only you'reuncivilized. You're just a
boy. You talk too much .... "

    , "You're crazy," said Fillmore. "I wouldn't fall for you if you _ were
the last womanon earth. Go home and wash your face. " He ^ walked off
without payingfor the drinks.

    In a fewdays. however, the princess was installed. She's a genuine
princess,of that we're pretty certain. But she has the clap. Anyway, lifeis
far from dull here. Fillmore has bronchitis, the princess, asI was saying,
has the clap, and I have the piles. Just  exchanged six empty bottles atthe
Russian epicerie across the way. Not a drop went down mygullet. No meat, no
wine, no rich game, no women. Only fruit and paraffinoil. arnica drops and
a-drenalin ointment. And not a chair in the jointthat's comfortable e-nough.
Right now, looking at the princess, I'mpropped up like a pasha. Pasha! That
reminds me of her name: Macha.Doesn't sound so damned aristocratic to me.
Reminds me of The LivingCorpse.
    At first I thoughtit was going to be embarrassing, a menage a trois, but
not atall. I thought when I saw her move in that it was all up with me
again,that I should have to find another place, but Fillmore soon gave meto
understand that he was only putting her up until she got on her feet.With a
woman like her I don't know what an expression like that means; as far as I
can see she's been standing on her head all her life. Shesays the revolution
drove her out of Russia, but I'm sure if it hadn'tbeen the revolution it
would have been something else. She's under theimpression that she's a great
actress j we never contradict her in anythingshe says because it's time
wasted. Fillmore finds her amusing. Whenhe leaves for the office in the
morning he drops ten francs on her pillowand ten francs on mine; at night
the three of us go to the Russian restaurantdown below. The neighborhood is
full of Russians and Macha has alreadyfound a place where she can run up a
little credit. Naturally ten francsa day isn't anything for a princess i she
wants caviar now and thenand champagne, and she needs a complete new
wardrobe in order to geta job in the movies again. She has nothing to do now
except to killtime. She's putting on fat.
    This morningI had quite a fright. After I had washed my face I grabbed
her towelby mistake. We can't seem to train her to put her towel on the
righthook. And when I bawled her out for it she answered smoothly: "My
dear,if one can become blind from that I would have been blind years ago."
    And then there'sthe toilet, which we all have to use. I try speaking to
her in a fatherlyway about the toilet seat. "Oh zut! " she says. "If you are
so afraidI'll go to a cafe. " But it's not necessary to do that, I explain.
Justuse ordinary precautions. "Tut tut! " she says, "I won't sit down then...
I'll stand up. "
    Everything iscockeyed with her around. First she wouldn'tomeacross
because she had the monthlies. For eight days that lasted. Wewere beginning
to think she was faking it. But no. she wasn't faking.One day, when I was
trying to put the place in order, I found some cottonbatting under the bed
and it was stained with blood. With her everythinggoes under the bed; orange
peel. wadding, corks, empty bottles, scissors,used condoms, books, pillows. .
. . She makes the bed only when it'stime to retire. Most of the time she
lies abed reading her Russian papers."My dear, " she says to me, "if it
weren't for my papers I wouldn'tget out of bed at all. " That's it precisely!
Nothing but Russian newspapers.Not a scratch of toilet paper around _
nothing but Russian newspaperswith which to wipe your ass.
    Anyway, speakingof her idiosyncrasies, after the menstrual flow was over,
after shehad rested properly and put a nice layer of fat around her belt,
stillshe wouldn't come across. Pretended that she only liked women. To
takeon a man she had to first be properly stimulated. Wanted us to takeher
to a bawdy house where they put on the dog and man act. Or betterstill, she
said, would be Le-da and the swan: the flapping of the wingsexcited her
terribly.
    One night, totest her out. we accompanied her to a place that she
suggested. Butbefore we had a chance to broach the subject to the madam, a
drunkenEnglishman, who was sitting at the next table, fell into a
conversationwith us. He had already been upstairs twice but he wanted
another tryat it. He had only about twenty francs in his pocket, and not
knowingany French, he asked us if we would help him to bargain with the
girlhe had his eye on. Happened she was a Negress, a powerful wench
fromMartinique, and beautiful as a panther. Had a lovely disposition too.In
order to persuade her to accept the Englishman's remaining sous,Fillmore had
to promise to go with her himself soon as she got throughwith the Englishman.
The princess looked on, heard everything that wassaid, and then got on her
high horse. She was insulted. "Well, " saidFillmore, "you wanted some
excitement _ you can watch me do it!" Shedidn't want to watch him _ she
wanted to watch a drake. "Well, by Jesus," he said, "I'm as good as a drake
any day . . . maybe a little better." Like that, one word led to another,
and finally the only way we couldappease her was to call one of the girls
over and let them tickle eachother . . . When Fillmore came backwith the
Negress her eyes were smoldering. I could see from the wayFillmore looked at
her that she must have given an unusual performanceand I began to feel
lecherous myself. Fillmore must have sensed howI felt, and what an ordeal it
was to sit and look on all night, forsuddenly he pulled a hundred franc note
out of his pocket and slappingit in front of me, he said: "Look here, you
probably need a lay morethan any of us. Take that and pick someone out for
yourself. " Somehowthat gesture endeared him more to me than anything he had
ever donefor me, and he had done considerable. I accepted the money in the
spiritit was given and promptly signaled to the Negress to get ready for
anotherlay. That enraged the princess more than anything, it appeared.
Shewanted to know if there wasn't anyone in the place good enough for
usexcept this Negress. I told her bluntly NO. And it was so _ the Negresswas
the queen of the harem. You had only to look at her to get an erection.Her
eyes seemed to be swimming in sperm. She was drunk with all thedemands made
upon her. She couldn't walk straight any more _ at least,it seemed that way
to me. Going up the narrow winding stairs behindher I couldn't resist the
temptation to slide my hand up her crotch; we continued up the stairs that
way, she looking back at me with a cheerfulsmile and wiggling her ass a bit
when it tickled her too much.
    It was a goodsession all around. Everyone was happy. Macha seemed to be
in a goodmood too. And so the next evening, after she had had her ration of
champagneand caviar, after she had given us another chapter out of the
historyof her life, Fillmore went to work on her. It seemed as though he
wasgoing to get his reward at last. She had ceased to put up a fight anymore.
She lay back with her legs apart and she let him fool around andfool around
and then, just as he was climbing over her, just as he wasgoing to slip it in,
she informs him nonchalantly that she has a doseof clap. He rolled off her
like a log. I heard him fumbling around inthe kitchen for the black soap he
used on special occasions, and ina few moments he was standing by my bed
with a towel in his hands andsaying _ "can you beat that?" that
son-of-a-bitch of a princess hasthe clap! " He seemed pretty well scared
about it. The princess meanwhilewas munching an apple and calling for her
Russian newspapers. It wasquite a joke to her. "There are worse things than
that, " she said,

    lying there inher bed and talking to us through the open door. Finally
Fillmore beganto see it as a joke too and opening another bottle of Anjou he
pouredout a drink for himself and quaffed it down. It was only about one
inthe morning and so he sat there talking to me for a while. He wasn'tgoing
to be put off by a thing like that, he told me. Of course, hehad to be
careful ... there was the old dose which had come on in LeHavre. He couldn't
remember any more how that happened. Sometimes whenhe got drunk he forgot to
wash himself. It wasn't anything very terrible,but you never knew what might
develop later. He didn't want any onemassaging his prostate gland. No, that
he didn't relish. The first dosehe ever got was at college. Didn't know
whether the girl had given itto him or he to the girl; there was so much
funny work going on aboutthe campus you didn't know whom to believe. Nearly
all the coeds hadbeen knocked up some time or other. Too damned ignorant . ..
even theprofs were ignorant. One of the profs had himself castrated, so
therumor went ....
    Anyway, the nextnight he decided to risk it _ with a condom. Not much
risk in that.unless it breaks. He had bought himself some of the long fish
skin variety_ they were the most reliable, he assured me. But then, that
didn'twork either. She was too tight. "Jesus, there's nothing abnormal
aboutme, " he said. "How do you make that out?" Somebody got inside her
allright to give her that dose. He must have been abnormally small. "
    So, one thingafter another failing, he just gave it up altogether. They
lie therenow like brother and sister, with incestuous dreams. Says Macha,
inher philosophic way: "In Russia it often happens that a man sleeps witha
woman without touching her. They can go on that way for weeks andweeks and
never think anything about it. Until paff! once he touchesher .. . paff! paff!
After that it's paff, paff, paff! "
    All efforts areconcentrated now on getting Macha into shape. Fillmore
thinks if hecures her of the clap she may loosen up. A strange idea. So he's
boughther a douche bag, a stock of permanganate, a whirling syringe and
otherlittle things which were recommended to him by a Hungarian doctor,
alittle quack of an abortionist over near the Place d'Aligre. It seemshis
boss had knocked up a sixteen-year-oldgirl once and she had introduced him
to the Hungarian; and then afterthat the boss had a beautiful chancre and it
was the Hungarian again.That's how one gets acquainted in Paris _
genito-urinary friendships.Anyway, under our strict supervision, Macha is
taking care of herself.The other night, though, we were in a quandary for a
while. She stuckthe suppository inside her and then she couldn't find the
string attachedto it. "My God! " she was yelling, "where is that string? My
God! Ican't find the string! "
    "Did you lookunder the bed?" said Pillmore.
    Finally she quieteddown. But only for a few minutes. The next thing was:
"My God! I'm bleedingagain. I just had my period and now there are gouttes
again.It must be that cheap champagne you buy. My God, do you want me to
bleedto death?" She comes out with a kimono on and a towel stuck betweenher
legs, trying to look dignified as usual. "My whole life is justlike that, "
she says. "I'm a neurasthenic. The whole day running aroundand at night I'm
drunk again. When I came to Paris I was still an innocentgirl. I read only
Villon and Baudelaire. But as I had then , Swiss francsin the bank I was
crazy to enjoy myself, because in Russia they werealways strict with me. And
as I was even more beautiful then than Iam now. I had all the men falling at
my feet. " Here she hitched upthe slack which had accumulated around her belt.
"You mustn't thinkI had a stomach like that when I came here . . . that's
from all thepoison I was given to drink . . . those horrible aperitifs
whichthe French are so crazy to drink .... So then I met my movie
directorand he wanted that I should play a part for him. He said I was the
mostgorgeous creature in the world and he was begging me to sleep with
himevery night. I was a foolish young virgin and so I permitted him torape
me one night. I wanted to be a great actress and I didn't knowhe was full of
poison. So he gave me the clap .. . and now I want thathe should have it
back again. It's his fault that I committed suicidein the Seine .... Why are
you laughing? Don't you believe that I committedsuicide? I can show you the
newspapers . .. there is my picture in allthe papers. I will show you the
Russian papers some day . . . they wroteabout me wonderfully .... But darling,
you know that first I roust havea new dress. I can't vamp this man with
these dirty rags I am in. Besides,  I still owe my dressmaker , francs. . . .
"
    From here onit's a long story about the inheritance which she is trying
to collect.She has a young lawyer, a Frenchman, who is rather timid, it
seems,and he is trying to win back her fortune. From time to time he usedto
give her a hundred francs or so on account. "He's stingy, like allthe French
people, " she says. "And I was so beautiful, too, that hecouldn't keep his
eyes off me. He kept begging me always to fuck him.I got so sick and tired
of listening to him that one night I said yes,just to keep him quiet, and so
as I wouldn't lose my hundred francsnow and then. " She paused a moment to
laugh hysterically. "My dear," she continued, "it was too funny for words
what happened to him. Hecalls me up on the phone one day and he says: "I
must see you rightaway .. . it's very important. " And when I see him he
shows me a paperfrom the doctor _ and it's gonorrhea! My dear, I laughed in
his face.How should I know that I still had the clap? "You wanted to fuck
meand so I fucked you!" That made him quiet. That's how it goes in life. . .
you don't suspect anything, and then all of a sudden paff, paff,paff! He was
such a fool that he fell in love with me all over again.Only he begged me to
behave myself and not run around Montparnasse allnight drinking and fucking.
He said I was driving him crazy. He wantedto marry me and then his family
heard about me and they persuaded himto go to Indo-China...."
    From this Machacalmly switches to an affair she had with a Lesbian. "It
was very funny,my dear, how she picked me up one night. I was at the
"Fetiche" andI was drunk as usual. She took me from one place to the other
and shemade love to me under the table all night until I couldn't stand
itany more. Then she took me to her apartment and for two hundred francsI
let her suck me off. She wanted me to live with her but I didn't wantto have
her suck me off every night.. . it makes you too weak. Besides,I can tell
you that I don't care so much for Lesbians as I used to.I would rather sleep
with a man even though it hurts me. When I getterribly excited I can't hold
myself back any more .. . three, four,five times ... just like that! Paff,
paff, paff! And then I bleed andthat is very unhealthy for me because I am
inclined to be anemic. Soyou see why once in a while I must let myself be
sucked by a Lesbian...."