Ha!
ha! He must write this to his mother! It was something to write
about to her, who had left him, who deserted him when he was the
most unhappy, because all that she cared for was to keep her
sacred person inviolate, to maintain her obstinate opinion, to
gratify her pique--Oh! what long hair!--How fast his mother was
held! She had not cut her hair enough then. But now she should
have her deserts. Everything from as far back as he could remember
should be recalled, for once in a way he would show her herself;
now he had both the power and the right. His powers of discovery
had been long hidden under the suffocating sawdust of the daily
and nightly sawing; but now it was awake, and his mother should
feel it.
People noticed the tall man break out of the wood, jump over
hedges and ditches, and make his way straight up the hill. At the
very top he would write to his mother!--
He did not return to the hotel till dark. He was wet, dirty, and
frightfully exhausted. He was as hungry as a wolf, he said, but he
hardly ate anything; on the other hand, he was consumed with
thirst. On leaving the table he said that he wished to stay there
a few days to sleep.
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