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cheese for the bouillabaisse . . . but even so Schulze and the chef weren't so sure . . . couldn't it be one of the cook's helpers? . . .
    I haven't told you about the Casino! . . . unpardonable omission! . . . the rendezvous of Europe's élites. . . nobility, diplomatte corps, theater. . . long before the "masses" started traveling and America coming over in three hours . . . those gaming rooms . . . "Transylvanian baroque" upholstered in raspberry and gold velvet . . . you expect to run into des Grieux ° . . . Manon is rehearsing . . . ten Manons! . . . absolutely unrepentant! . . . fiendish gamblers! . . . the red and the black . . . lashes, boobs, hips . . . and that bra that's on the lam!
    Florid colonels, liverish councillors, ailing old bags with heart trouble . . . pale . . . pale . . . without a sou left to their names . . . or the strength to get up and go . . . wartime, no orchestra . . . no sound but the unchanging rrrrr of the wheel . . . and that melodious voice, briskly . . . "jeux sont faits!" . . . The nobility from the Simplon came in to take a look. . . genteel, contemptuous . . . but the collabo "refugees," especially the ladies, clung three . . . or four. . . to a chair . . . panting in expectation . . . .
    The Casino pastry shop was always jampacked with Boche war widows . . . convalescing from emotional shock . . . bring on the babas au rhum! . . . and the cream puffs and brioches this big! . . .the blueberry tarts and the platters of éclairs . . . a sight for sore eyes! . . . I've got to admit that we indulged just a little . . . the hard times came later . . . I've told you! Sigmaringen, the artificial cake, more plaster than flour . . . don't let it bug you . . . I'm telling you all this every which way . . . the end before the beginning! . . . what does it matter? the truth alone matters! . . . you'll catch on . . . I catch on . . . A slight effort, that's all! . . . You take more trouble with a modern painting! . . . Is it so hard to visualize those convalescent war widows taking the "cure," packing away cakes, petits fours, strawberry tarts . . . pitchers of creamy chocolate . . . no trouble at all. . . all those mouths full, dripping . . . the hard part was getting out! the revolving doors! . . . the waiters had to push them . . . all those somnolent ladies . . . they'd land somewhere . . . in the park . . . on this bench . . . or that . . . belching . . . dreamy . . . and linger for hours, digesting . . .
    The croupiers . . . something else again . . . they had no fun at all . . . no time for petits fours! . . . convicts of the chips! . . . "place your bets! . . . five!" . . . in addition they had their pupils to train, one apiece . . . on the stool beside him, a specially selected war cripple, a basket case in uniform . . . no time to lose! rehabilitation of crippled veterans . . . and they'd better learn quick . . . to toss the ball . . . to rake in the stakes . . . five! three! four! "les jeux sont faits!" the dexterity of luck! . . . harmonious unbroken movements, chips . . . flawless delivery! . . . the tradition of the Baden Casino doesn't date from yesterday! . . . Berlioz played there and Liszt . . . and all the Romanov princes . . . the Naritzkins and Savoys . . . the Bourbons and Braganças . . . we, of course, seemed like intruders, we, unwanted on all the shores of Europe . . . well, anyway it was an opera, the comic kind . . . you spectators have nothing to worry about . . . History passes by, plays on, and there you are . . . I'll tell you all about it. . .
    Exactly the same croupiers as in Monte Carlo . . . so-called deportees . . . pomaded hair, the same . . . hooked noses, the same . . . dinner jackets, sewn pockets . . . same as in Ostend, Zoppot, Enghien . . . voices like velvet guillotines . . . "faites vos jeux" . . . nothing new except the rehabilitation of the basket cases by specialists from Monaco . . . the Great Reich thought of everything . . . people find fault with