Four o'clock in the morning
You may believe me when I maintain that no pride of authorship binds me to these pages . Already I am too far removed from all such things . Only it is useless that others should enter upon the path from which I shall not return . Four o'clock in the morning . Soon the sun will kindle the hamada with its pink fire . All about me the bordj is asleep . Through the half-open door of his room I hear André de Saint-Avit breathing quietly , very quietly .