Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell Read Free Book Online Page B

fortune
    of war! This morning with five sous, and now look at us. I
    have always said it, there is nothing easier to get than mon-
    ey. And that reminds me, I have a friend in the rue Fondary
    whom we might go and see. He has cheated me of four thou-
    sand francs, the thief. He is the greatest thief alive when he
    is sober, but it is a curious thing, he is quite honest when he
    is drunk. I should think he would be drunk by six in the
    evening. Let’s go and find him. Very likely he will pay up a
    hundred on account. MERDE! He might pay two hundred.
    ALLONS-Y!’
    We went to the rue Fondary and found the man, and he
    was drunk, but we did not get our hundred francs. As soon
    as he and Boris met there was a terrible altercation on the
    pavement. The other man declared that he did not owe Bo-
    ris a penny, but that on the contrary Boris owed HIM four
    thousand francs, and both of them kept appealing to me for
    my opinion. I never understood the rights of the matter. The
    two argued and argued, first in the street, then in a BISTRO,
    then in a PRIX FIXE restaurant where we went for dinner,
    then in another BISTRO. Finally, having called one another
    thieves for two hours, they went off together on a drinking
    bout that finished up the last sou of Boris’s money.
    Boris slept the night at the house of a cobbler, another
    Russian refugee, in the Commerce quarter. Meanwhile,
    I had eight francs left, and plenty of cigarettes, and was
    stuffed to the eyes with food and drink. It was a marvellous
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    change for the better after two bad days.
    0
    Down and Out in Paris and London
    VIII
    We had now twenty-eight francs in hand, and could
    start looking for work once more. Boris was still
    sleeping, on some mysterious terms, at the house of the cob-
    bler, and he had managed to borrow another twenty francs
    from a Russian friend. He had friends, mostly ex-officers
    like himself, here and there all over Paris. Some were wait-
    ers or dishwashers, some drove taxis, a few lived on women,
    some had managed to bring money away from Russia and
    owned garages or dancing-halls. In general, the Russian
    refugees in Paris are hard-working people, and have put up
    with/their bad luck far better than one can imagine Eng-
    lishmen of the same class doing. There are exceptions, of
    course. Boris told me of an exiled Russian duke whom he
    had once met, who frequented expensive restaurants. The
    duke would find out if there was a Russian officer among
    the waiters, and, after he had dined, call him in a friendly
    way to his table.
    ‘Ah,’ the duke would say, ‘so you are an old soldier, like
    myself? These are bad days, eh? Well, well, the Russian sol-
    dier fears nothing. And what was your regiment?’
    ‘The so-and-so, sir,’ the waiter would answer.
    ‘A very gallant regiment! I inspected them in 1912. By
    the way, I have unfortunately left my notecase at home. A
    Russian officer will, I know, oblige me with three hundred
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    1
    francs.’
    If the waiter had three hundred francs he would hand it
    over, and, of course, never see it again. The duke made quite
    a lot in this way. Probably the waiters did not mind being
    swindled. A duke is a duke, even in exile.
    It was through one of these Russian refugees that Boris
    heard of something which seemed to promise money. Two
    days after we had pawned the overcoats, Boris said to me
    rather mysteriously:
    ‘Tell me, MON AMI, have you any political opinions?’
    ‘No,’I said.
    ‘Neither have I. Of course, one is always a patriot; but
    still—Did not Moses say something about spoiling the
    Egyptians? As an Englishman you will have read the Bible.
    What I mean is, would you object to earning money from
    Communists?’
    ‘No, of course not.’
    ‘Well, it appears that there is a Russian secret society in
    Paris who might do something for us. They are Commu-
    nists; in fact they are agents for the Bolsheviks. They act as
    a friendly