commerce, and their chief aim in life is, as they call it, “doing
business.” Naturally they don’t eschew such simpler pleasures as
love-making, sea-bathing, going to the pictures. But, very sensibly,
they reserve these pastimes for Saturday afternoons and Sundays
and employ the rest of the week in making money, as much as
possible. In the evening, on leaving the oce, they forgather, at an
hour that never varies, in the cafés, stroll the same boulevard, or
take the air on their balconies. The passions of the young are violent
and short-lived; the vices of older men seldom range beyond an
addiction to bowling, to banquets and “socials,” or clubs where
large sums change hands on the fall of a card.
It will be said, no doubt, that these habits are not peculiar to our
town; really all our contemporaries are much the same. Certainly
nothing is commoner nowadays than to see people working from
morn till night and then proceeding to fritter away at card-tables, in
cafés and in small-talk what time is left for living. Nevertheless
there still exist towns and countries where people have now and
then an inkling of something dierent. In general it doesn’t change
their lives. Still, they have had an intimation, and that’s so much to
the good. Oran, however, seems to be a town without intimations;
in other words, completely modern. Hence I see no need to dwell on
the manner of loving in our town. The men and women consume
one another rapidly in what is called “the act of love,” or else settle
down to a mild habit of conjugality. We seldom nd a mean
between these extremes. That, too, is not exceptional. At Oran, as
elsewhere, for lack of time and thinking, people have to love one
another without knowing much about it.
What is more exceptional in our town is the diculty one may
experience there in dying. “Diculty,” perhaps, is not the right
word; “discomfort” would come nearer. Being ill is never agreeable,
but there are towns that stand by you, so to speak, when you are
sick; in which you can, after a fashion, let yourself go. An invalid
needs small attentions, he likes to have something to rely on, and
that’s natural enough. But at Oran the violent extremes of
temperature, the exigencies of business, the uninspiring
surroundings, the sudden nightfalls, and the very nature of its