open by a sort of stupefaction called up by 
what he still felt, and the rays of the setting 
sun, slipping through the red curls of his tan-
gled hair, enkindled as it were a sulphurous 
aureole of passion. It was easy to guess that 
he would not waste his life looking for Divinity 
in clouds, and that he would find it often 
enough elsewhere. 
Finally the fourth said, “You know that I 
hardly ever play in the house, they never take 
me to the theatre; my governor is too stingy. 
God takes no trouble over me and my weari-
ness, and I have not a pretty nurse to cuddle 
me. It has often seemed to me that my pleas-
ure would be in going always straight in front 
of me without knowing where, without any 
person troubling themselves about it, and see-
ing always new countries. I am never comfort-
able anywhere, and I always believe that I 
should be better anywhere else but where I 
am. Well, let me tell you! I saw at the last Fair 
in the next village three men, who live as I 
should like to live. You never noticed them; 
they were tall, almost black, and very proud, 
although in rags, with the air of having need of 
nobody. Their large dark eyes became quite 
brilliant while they made music; a music so 
surprising, so exciting, that it makes one want 
first to dance and then to weep and then to do