In t interval betime t I got to kno I tai of felicity. I inct impression, rat all tion, t everyt t of tter o e.

        I    in dang t I felt quite equal to playing my part at talking. . Sook test care not to let out o be. I    in t inquisitive to kno I s ume at all. Maria, ner, explai sicket too, in fact; and I sament t I so attend tivity alo oy of Artists in the Globe Rooms.

        During ttle of    t. Sicket, ly o a versation so remarkable t it made a deep impression on me.

        "Youre really doing splendidly," s;Dang suits you. Anyone    four ;

        "Yes," I agreed. "t gone so s all your doing, ;

        "O tiful Marias?"

        "No. S from you like all t. S;

        "S teppenty, young, liged, an expert in love and not to be    to s aling guest, it ter."

        Yes, I o cede too.

        "And so    everyt no;

        "No,    is not like t.    I    is very beautiful and delig pleasure, a great solation. Im really ;

        "ell t more do you ?"

        "I do    more. I am not tent    made for it. It is not my destiny. My destiny is te."

        "to be un? ell, youve    and to spare, t time w go ;

        "No,    is somet time, I grant you, I    upid uo not;

        ";

        "Because I s    fear of deat all t I need and long for is different. It is of t    me suffer    after deat is t I am ing for."

        "I uand t. ter. But    t you    you tent?"

        "I    it. O. Im grateful for it. It is as lovely as a sunny day in a    summer. But I suspect t it t last. to not gives tent, but tent is no food for me. It lulls teppeno sleep and satiates    it is not a o die for."

        "So its necessary to be dead, Steppen;

        "I tent and I    bear it for a long    sometimes o look about me and long for t to keep t to suffer once again, only more beautifully and less meanly t make me ready and o die."

        enderly in my eyes    dark look t could so suddenly e into oget it    to hear her, she said:

        "I    to tell you sometoday, somet I    too; but per to yourself. I am going to tell you no is t I kno you and me and our fate. You, ist and a track of    aernal, never tent rivial ay. But t you back to yourself, ter    aken you, till you o your ne t you oneiful and sacred, all tiny,    its o pieces. Your faito breation is a    true,    your fate?"

        I nodded again and again.

        "You ure of life    tever, and t life is no poem of s to play and so on, but a fortable room ent ing and drinking, coffee and knitting, cards and    in iful, and t poets or for ts—is a fool and a Don Quixote. Good. And it    ted girl. I    to live up to a andard, to expect muc t part. I could ionary, ter of a genius, tyr. And life    to be a courtesan of fairly good taste, and even t    is ime I put t I, must in t, and if life sed my beautiful dreams, so I argued, it    upid and    did not    all. And as I tle inquisitive too, I took a good look at t my neigances, fifty or so of tinies, and t my dreams    a times over, just as yours    y t    tle rig a y and in a senseless    a typeer in to marry suco bee some kind e, as for a man like you to be forced in o o a razor. Perrouble erial and moral and ual—but it    uand your rot, your dislike of bars and dang floors, your loat of it? I uand it only too ics as ter and irresponsible antics of ties and t    is to be, over all t people noions tion t, Steppen you must go to too exag aed oday. You oo many. s to live and enjoy oday must not be like you and me. s musistead of noise, joy instead of pleasure, soul instead of gold, creative ead of business, passion instead of foolery, finds no rivial ;

        So meditation.

        "; I cried tenderly, "sister,    you taugrot! But    people like us oo many ot live    brings it about? Is it only so in our days, or    so al;

        "I dont kno to be in our time only—a disease, a momentary misfortune. Our leaders strain every nerve, and o get t , earn money a ces—in sucime t indeed cut a pure. Let us    otimes ter, and ter again, ric t is no o us noer ;

        "Al is today? Alis, profiteers, ers and pleasure-seekers, and not a breat;

        "ell, I dont kno is all t I am te of o me sometimes, and read me, too, some of ters, of Mozart.    rolled times and ruled t and gave tone and ted for somet Mozart or t or t faso die and be buried? And per    is called ory at sc t    deeds and fiions, is all not a sed by ters for educational reasons to keep c ime and to to t, to t deat;

        "Not;

        "Yes, eternity."

        "You mean a name, and fame erity?"

        "No, Steppen fame.    any value? And do you t all true and real men o posterity?"

        "No, of course not."

        "t isnt fame. Fame exists in t sense only for ters. No, it isnt fame. It is ernity. t to myself: all    trive to live at all if t anoto breatside t eternity at time; and trut belongs try of yreat poets. ts, too, belong tyrdom and given a great example to men. But true act, trengtrue feeling, belongs to eternity just as muc or sees it or records it or    doo posterity. Iy terity."

        "You are rig;

        "t; s oatively, "after all kno about t is s and s. ts, true men, t, in every love. ts, in earlier times it    by painters in a golden iful and full of peace, and it is not    a moment ago ernity. It is time and appearances. It is t is t rives for. And for t reason, Steppen, and I my saints, Cops    o saintliness, sin and vice. You    I often t even my friend Pablo mig in o stumble, t and o guide us. Our only guide is our ;

        it ting; it lit up t lettering on took o er, and so ayed for a moment. And so I s to stay and to    no more t day. But Maria , t before t Ball.

        But on my o join Maria I t, not of    of o me t it , pers but mine. S, breat to me as someticularly to    of eternity just at time. I , for    it I could not live aimelessness, of a ance of oday by taught me dang.

        I o recall my dream of Goet vision of tals. For t time I uood Goeter, ter of tals. It . It     andings of men and got to eternity ay ion of time, its return to innoce, so to speak, and its transformation again into space.

        I    to meet Maria at t arrived, and ing at table in t and secluded restaurant, my ts still ran on tion I s t e and als, living timeless space, enraptured, re-fasalliernity like etarry brig serenity of tside timately knoed, passages of Mozarts Cassations, of Bacempered Clavier came to my mind and it seemed to me t all tarry brig ime frozen into space, and above it ty, aernal, divine laugted in too! And suddenly I er around me. I als laug entranced. Entranced, I felt for a pencil in my coat pocket, and looking for paper saable. I tur over and e on te verses and fot about till one day I discovered t. they ran:

        tALS

        Ever reeking from th

        Asds to us lifes fevered surge,

        ealth,

        Smoke of deathe gallows verge;

        Greed    end, imprisoned air;

        Murderers hands, usurers hands, hands of prayer;

        Exid breathe human swarm

        , blood raw, blood warm,

        Breats,

        Eating itself and spe eats,

        c,

        Deg out    craze

        Bawdy hey blaze,

        time mart

        eltering to its own decay

        In the glare of pleasures way,

        Rising for ea

        Sinking for eaco dust again.

        But we above you ever more residing

        In tar translumined ice

        Kno day nimes dividing,

        ear ne nor sex for our device.

        All your sins and anguising,

        Your murders and lascivious delighting

        Are to us but as a show

        Like t cirg go,

        C our day fht;

        On your frenzied life we spy,

        And refreser

        itars in order fleeing;

        Our breater; in ht

        Fahe sky;

        Cool and unal being,

        Cool and star brigernal laughter.

        ter a co our little room. S evening, imate te I felt it as t plete abandon. "Maria," said I, "you are as prodigal today as a goddess. Dont kill us bote. tomorroer all is t for a cavalier tomorro of good lovers ime."

        S o my ear and whispered:

        "Dont say t, ime mig time. If akes you, you o me. Perake you tomorro;

        Never did I experieo t strange, bitter-s alternation of mood, more po nig    and subtle sensuous joy of inasting a    I o kno joy like a rippling pool. A    and tense e, and ender, I tle s appealing tly    a care in t e raced on at breakneck speed, rag and ed raigous abyss, spurred on by dread and longing to tion of deat as a s ed aside in fear from tless pleasure of merely sensual love a a dread of Marias beauty t laugself, so no a dread of deat s approaco surrender and release.

        Even    and deep preoccupation of our love and belonged more closely to one anoto Maria, and took leave of all t s to me. I o fide myself like a co lifes surface play, to pursue a fleeting joy, and to be bot in tate t (in earlier life) I ion. tter apa of guilt, t but dread taste of forbidden fruit t puts a spiritual man on s innoce, and I    t it ime to go on fart oo agreeable and too    iny to make anotion of its endless guilt. An easy life, an easy love, an easy deat for me.

        From old me I gat for t day, or in e , quite unusual deligravagances . Per . Per nigogete. I o Maria; and t burst of wild desire...
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