The forest belongs to me....
The piano is closed. I never use it now. The sound of the wind in the
trees is music enough for me. I rise from my bed and listen until I am
half frozen. I, who was never stirred or pleased by the playing of
virtuosi!
I have no more desires. Past and future both repose beneath a shroud of
soft, mild fog. I am content to live like this. But the least event
indoors wakes me from my lethargy. Yesterday Torp sent for the sweep.
Catching sight of him in my room, I could not repress a scream. I could
not think for the moment what the man could be doing here.
Another time a stray cat took refuge under my table. I was not aware of
it, but no sooner had I sat down than I felt surcharged with
electricity. I rang for Jeanne, and when she came into the room the
creature darted from its hiding-place, and I was panic-stricken.
Jeanne carried it away, but for a long time afterwards I shivered at the
sight of her.
Whence comes this horror of cats? Many people make pets of them.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108