"Could it be that I'm dreaming?" the clown wondered. "This man wants to die! Yes, yes, he wants to die. It's evidenced on his sad face."
"This service...there's nothing to be said," growled the neighbor, addressing the Frenchman. "These long intermissions aggravate me horribly! From portion to portion you're obliged to wait half an hour! And so your appetite is given over to the devil, and it puts you in danger...now it's three o'clock, and I have an anniversary dinner at five."
"Pardon, monsieur," Parkour turned pale, "but you're already eating dinner!"
"N-no...what sort of dinner is this? This is breakfast...pancakes..." Here they brought the neighbor his stew. He poured himself half a dish, seasoned it with cayenne pepper, and began to gulp it down.
"Poor thing..." continued the horrified Frenchman. "Either he's sick and doesn't notice his dangerous situation, or else he does all of this intentionally...with the aim of suicide...My god, if I'd only known I'd stumble on such a picture here I wouldn't have come! My nerves can't stand such scenes! By the looks of him he's an intelligent man, young...full of strength..." he thought, staring at the neighbor. "He could yet bring glory to his Fatherland...and it's highly possible that he has a young wife, children...Judging by his clothing he must be rich, rich enough...yet something compels him to decide on this step? And he couldn't choose a different mode to die? The devil knows how cheaply life is valued! And how base, how inhuman am I, sitting here and not even walking over to help! Perhaps he can yet be saved!" Parkour resolutely stood up from the table and approached the neighbor.
"Hear me, monsieur," he addressed him in a soft voice, "I don't have the honor of being acquainted with you, but, nevertheless, believe me, I am your friend...Couldn't I help you with anything? Remember, you're still young...you have a wife, children..."
"I don't understand you!" the neighbor shook his head, staring into the Frenchman's eyes.
"Oui, why hold back, monsieur? I see it perfectly! You, sir, are eating so much that...it's difficult not to suspect..."
"I eat a lot?!" the neighbor was amazed, "Me? Really now...how am I supposed to eat if since the very morning I haven't eaten anything at all?"
"But you're eating a horrifyingly large amount!"
"Well, why are you so worried? I don't have to pay you for it! And in general I don't eat too much! Look around. I eat like everyone else!"
Parkour looked around in horror. The waiters jostled and bumped each other carrying whole mountains of pancakes. At the tables people sat eating the mountains, and salmon, and caviar, with the same appetite and daring as the pleasant looking gentleman. "Oh, what a strange country!" thought Parkour, exiting the restaurant. "Not only the climate, but even the stomachs are strange! What a country, what a strange country!"
(trans. Michael Wasiura)
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