"What are you crying for?" he asked, in surprise. "Am I not quite
cheerful and sensible? You, surely, are not afraid of me? Don't be
afraid, the worst is over. Last night, it is true, if any one had said
to me, 'Stamp with your foot on the ground and the whole world will
fall in ruins and bury you and all that is good and beautiful,' I
believe I would have done it. Well, those poor innocents there had to
bear the brunt of my fury; and now a little child might lead me by a
string."
"Won't you tell me how it all happened?"
"What would be the use? It is vile. It's bad enough that two persons
know of it besides myself. Besides, it can't be changed. Don't you know
that you must never draw the iron out of the wound unless you want the
man to bleed to death? What time is it? Is it evening or morning? I
believe I am hungry. The animal in man is immortal, and outlives all
the nobler impulses. Pardon me for talking so. The words fall from my
lips; I cannot hold them back."
"I will go up to Angelica's room--she always has a little supply on
hand--or shall we go to my house?"
"No matter about it. I feel a disgust for all food. Hunger and disgust
at the same time--a fine outlook for life! But it's no wonder. When one
has nourished himself with something that appears perfectly innocent,
and suddenly discovers that it has been gathered from the vilest
refuse--"
She seated herself beside him on the sofa, and laid her arm on his
shoulder; but he seemed to be quite unmoved by her touch, though
usually her slightest caress would fairly intoxicate him.
"You must tell me all!" she whispered, stroking his rigid face, while
the tears rolled down her cheeks. "Are we not one? Is not your life
mine, just as everything I am and have belongs to you? And yet you
would keep something from me, because it might give me pain! I demand
my full half of your pain, or I shall begin to doubt whether I was ever
anything more to you than a living picture in which your eyes found
pleasure."
He slowly shook his head. "I must make an end of that, too," he said,
as if to himself. "I must have done with this half-way work. But that
pains me more; and it is not the beautiful image that must be dashed to
pieces, but he who moulded it out of clay. Ha, ha! As if it did not
follow that everything which comes from the earth must go back to the
earth again. A fine thought that, a truly charming prospect--ha, ha!"
"Speak sensibly, dearest! Now I can't understand a word."
"Well, then, to speak sensibly, I must go away--the sooner the better.
Do you understand what that means? I, myself--to tell the truth--I
don't quite understand it yet; but that comes from my weariness. As
soon as I have had a good sleep--"
"Go away! And why go away? And where to?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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