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"Never mind my being here, I am not an example for you. I am,
perhaps, worse than you are. I was drunk when I came here, though," I
hastened, however, to say in self-defence. "Besides, a man is no example
for a woman. It's a different thing. I may degrade and defile myself, but I
am not anyone's slave. I come and go, and that's an end of it. I shake it off,
and I am a different man. But you are a slave from the start. Yes, a slave!
You give up everything, your whole freedom. If you want to break your
chains afterwards, you won't be able to; you will be more and more fast in
the snares. It is an accursed bondage. I know it. I won't speak of anything
else, maybe you won't understand, but tell me: no doubt you are in debt
to your madam? There, you see," I added, though she made no answer,
but only listened in silence, entirely absorbed, "that's a bondage for you!
You will never buy your freedom. They will see to that. It's like selling
your soul to the devil .... And besides ... perhaps, I too, am just as
unlucky--how do you know--and wallow in the mud on purpose, out of
misery? You know, men take to drink from grief; well, maybe I am here
from grief. Come, tell me, what is there good here? Here you and I ...
came together ... just now and did not say one word to one another all
the time, and it was only afterwards you began staring at me like a wild
creature, and I at you. Is that loving? Is that how one human being
should meet another? It's hideous, that's what it is!"
"Yes!" she assented sharply and hurriedly.
I was positively astounded by the promptitude of this "Yes." So the
same thought may have been straying through her mind when she was
staring at me just before. So she, too, was capable of certain thoughts?
"Damn it all, this was interesting, this was a point of likeness!" I thought,
almost rubbing my hands. And indeed it's easy to turn a young soul
like that!
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