I go out of the hotel. I go to a café and order a bock. I smoke a cigarette. It is necessary that I think out plans. Shall I with my one thousand francs rent a studio in the Quarter and commence my life as artist? No. I have still the genius, the entusiasm, but I have not the training. To train myself to paint pictures I must study long, and even one thousand francs will not last for ever. Then what shall I do? I do not know. I order one other bock, and smoke more cigarettes, but still I do not know.
And then I say to myself, I will go back to my uncle, and plead with him. I will seize favourable opportunity. I will approach him after dinner when he is in good temper. But for that I must be close at hand. I must bewhats your expression?Johnny-on-the-spot.
My mind is made up. I have my plan.
I have gone back to my uncles hotel, and I have engaged not too expensive bedroom. My uncle does not know. He still is in his private office. I secure my room.
I dine cheaply that night, but I go to theatre and also to supper after the theatre, for have I not my thousand francs? It is late when I reach my bedroom.
I go to bed. I go to sleep.
But I do not sleep long. I am awakened by a voice.
It is a voice that says, Move and I shoot! Move and I shoot! I lie still. I do not move. I am courageous, but I am unarmed.
And the voice says again, Move and I shoot! Is it robbers? Is it some marauder who has made his way to my room to plunder me?
I do not know. Peraps I think yes.
Who are you? I have asked.
There is no answer.
I take my courage in my ands. I leap from my bed. I dash for the door. No pistol has been fire. I have reached the passage, and have shouted for assistance.
Hotel officials run up. Doors open. What is it? voices cry.
There is in my room an armed robber, I assure them.
And then I have foundno, I am mistaken. My door, you will understand, is open. And as I have said these words, a large green parrot comes opping out. My assassin is nothing but a green parrot.
Move and I shoot! it has said to those gathered in the corridor. It then has bitten me in the and and passed on.
I am chagrined, monsieur. But only for a moment. Then I forget my chagrin. For a voice from a door that as opened says with joy, It is my Polly, which I ave this evening lost!
I turn. I gasp for admiration. It is a beautiful lady in a pink dressing-gown which ave spoken these words.
She has looked at me. I ave looked at her. I forget everything but that she is adorable. I forget those who stand by. I forget that the parrot has bitten me in the and. I forget even that I am standing there in pyjamas, with on my feet nothing. I can only gaze at her and worship.
I have found words.
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