and my own dismay; and having sold my little shop I sought work in a
cursed factory. Ah me, it was terrible! But the other picture. With my
brother's fortune I made aggrandisements and eventually moved to the Rue
de la Paix. My scientific genius was at last appreciated, and my watches
and clocks became the pride of the haute monde. My son grew into a fine
man, much resembling myself, and after learning the profession opened a
branch office at Buenos Ayres. I won the ribbon. In short, nothing lacked
to make life agreeable and meritorious.

But then it was, just at that point, I came to myself and looking up
recognized my friend the philosopher. Years seemed to have passed--two
separate life times--and startled at finding myself seated in the same
chair and wearing the same clothes, I demanded of you what day it was. And
you answered Friday the fifteenth. How can such a thing be possible?

ALEXANDRE

To think that you, a watchmaker and a petit bourgeois, should experience
what many a saint has died without realizing! I salute you, mystic,
descendent of prophets and seers!

PERRON

But what was it then?

ALEXANDRE

What was it? A mystical experience, an experience of the highest order,
like unto Saint Therese, though in symbols of mundane things. But that is
the fault of the age more than yourself. With more practise your mind will