The straight-nosed
Arlesiennes account for it in some degree; and the remainder may be
charged to the ruins of the arena and the theater. Beyond this, I remember
with affection the ill-proportioned little Place des Hommes; not at all
monumental, and given over to puddles and to shabby cafes. I recall with
tenderness the tortuous and featureless streets, which looked like the
streets of a village, and were paved with villainous little sharp stones,
making all exercise penitential.
Consecrated by association is even a tiresome walk that I took the evening
I arrived, with the purpose of obtaining a view of the Rhone. I had been
to Arles before, years ago, and it seemed to me that I remembered finding
on the banks of the stream some sort of picture. I think that on the
evening of which I speak there was a watery moon, which it seemed to me
would light up the past as well as the present. But I found no picture,
and I scarcely found the Rhone at all. I lost my way, and there was not a
creature in the streets to whom I could appeal. Nothing could be more
provincial than the situation of Arles at ten o'clock at night.
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