Скорбота сатани

Chapter 7

           HepausedIwassilent,watchingthebrightfire-glowandthedroppingredcinders.

           "WhatIamgoingtosaynow,"heproceededinsoft,almostmelancholyaccents"willsoundridiculouslytritestillithastheperverseprosinessoftruthaboutit.Itisthisinordertowritewithintensefeeling,youmustfirstfeel.Verylikelywhenyouwrotethisbookofyours,youwerealmostahumanhedge-hoginthewayoffeeling.Everypricklypointofyouwaserectandresponsivetothetouchofallinfluences,pleasantorthereverse,imaginativeorrealistic.Thisisaconditionwhichsomepeopleenvyandotherswouldratherdispensewith.Nowthatyou,asahedge-hog,havenofurtherneedforeitheralarm,indignationorself-defence,yourpricklesaresoothedintoanagreeablepassiveness,andyoupartiallyceasetofeel.Thatisall.The‘change’youcomplainofisthusaccountedfor;youhavenothingtofeelabouthenceyoucannotcomprehendhowitwasthatyoueverfelt."

           Iwasconsciousofirritationatthecalmconvictionofhistone.

           "Doyoutakemeforsuchacallouscreatureasallthat?"Iexclaimed"Youaremistakeninme,Lucio.

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