They come freely and simply, as to a restaurant or a depot; they
sit, smoke, drink, convulsively pretend to be merry; they dance,
executing abominable movements of the body imitative of the act of
sexual love. At times attentively and long, at times with gross
haste, they choose any woman they like and know beforehand that
they will never meet refusal. Impatiently they pay their money in
advance, and on the public bed, not yet grown cold after the body
of their predecessor, aimlessly commit the very greatest and most
beautiful of all universal mysteries--the mystery of the
conception of new life. And the women with indifferent readiness,
with uniform words, with practiced professional movements, satisfy
their desires, like machines--only to receive, right after them,
during the same night, with the very same words, smiles and
gestures, the third, the fourth, the tenth man, not infrequently
already biding his turn in the waiting room.
So passes the entire night. Towards daybreak Yama little by little
grows quiet, and the bright morning finds it depopulated,
spacious, plunged into sleep, with doors shut tightly, with
shutters fixed on the windows.
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