Claude's Confession by Émile Zola

Last evening, there was a grand fête at Jacques' apartment. Pâquerette came in the afternoon to tell us that our neighbors expected us to supper at eleven o'clock. Imprisoned as I was for lack of clothing, I did not refuse the invitation, being desirous of procuring some amusement for Laurence.

After Pâquerette's departure, we debated the important question of pantaloons. It was decided that Laurence should cut me out a pair of short breeches from a piece of green serge, which had long lain about upon the floor. She went to work, and, two hours afterwards, I was costumed like a lighterman in a shirt of doubtful whiteness, with a strip of damask around my waist to support my breeches.