Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part I - I
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knew all her emotions, all her thoughts. But I was only
half interested, and asked her if I could do anything for
her.
“I take care of a young woman!” I exclaimed, after
she had explained what she wanted. “Don’t you know
that I am the devil incarnate?”
“You only think you are,” she replied; “but I know
you thoroughly. You’re unhappy, that’s all. You ought
to be roused from your gloomy fancies.”
“You know me thoroughly? You really think so?
I’m afraid all you know is the now antiquated opinion
your fiancé has of me.”
It was no use talking, my “charming friend” was well
informed and knew how to read a man’s heart, even from
a distance. She was one of those obstinate creatures who
strive to sway the spirits of men by insinuating
themselves into the hidden depths of their souls. She kept
up a large correspondence, bombarded all her
acquaintances with letters, gave advice and warning to young
people, and knew no greater happiness than to direct and
guide the destinies of men. Greedy of power, head of a
league for the salvation of souls, patroness of all the
world, she had conceived it her mission to save me!
She was a schemer of the purest water, with little
intelligence but a great deal of female impudence.
I began to tease her by making fun of everything, the
world, men, religion. She told me my ideas were morbid.
“Morbid! My dear lady, my ideas morbid? They
are, on the contrary, most healthy and of the latest date.
But what about yours now? They are relics of a past age,
commonplaces of my boyhood, the rubbish of rubbish,
and you think them new? Candidly speaking, what you
offer me as fresh fruit is nothing but preserved stuff in
badly soldered tins. Away with it! It’s rotten! You
know what I mean.”
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