Sealed Lips — page 55: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SHALED LIPS, 47 “Have you never thought of it?” asked Godefroid, without replying to the question. “Never. Suicide is vulgar, whatever you may think about it. Life is a struggle, and I like strug- oles. I have struggled with men, beasts, against the sun and against bad luck-—-—” “Have you never struggled against yourself?” “No. Patrice and I agree on everything, like two fingers on a hand.” “Then do not bein a hurry to say that you like struggles, for you do not know the worst of all.” “Well,” said O’Farrell, who wished to change the conversation, “I see a pile of letters upon your table. I will continue my service. Let us work.” They opened letters, but were frequently inter- rupted by callers; the doctor, a strange impressario, a journalist who came for an interview, an attache who came to solicit a box for the secretary to give a friend. In the midst of all these distractions the morning passed. As the two friends were seated at table a note was handed Godefroid; the sight of the writing even caused him to turn so pale that he looked as if he would faint again. “Jenny Sauval:” exclaimed he, tearing open the envelope. “fg that all?” observed Patrice; “why does it upset you so?” “Tt is—because now I fear everything. If she should write that she was hoarse!” The composer’s fears were groundless,