Good God! Is it I who is going to lead this mushroom existence? What will I do all day long? I’ll take walks. I’ll sit on a folding chair in the Tuileries—or rather on a bench, out of economy. I’ll read in the libraries. And then what? A movie once a week. And then what? Can I smoke a Voltigeur on Sunday? Shall I play croquet with the retired old men in the Luxembourg?
