ammering] Oh, I thought--as I am no longer needed--it
wouldn't be necessary for me to stay--and I might just as well
leave.

MR. X. No, you may not!--Sit down there at the table, where you
sat before, and we'll have another talk before you go.

MR. Y. [Sits down after having put on a dark coat] What are you up
to now?

MR. X. [Looking into the mirror back of MR. Y.] Oh, now I have it!
Oh-h-h!

MR. Y. [Alarmed] What kind of wonderful things are you discovering
now?

MR. X. I see in the mirror that you are a thief--a plain, ordinary
thief! A moment ago, while you had only the white shirt on, I
could notice that there was something wrong about my book-shelf. I
couldn't make out just what it was, for I had to listen to you and
watch you. But as my antipathy increased, my vision became more
acute. And now, with your black coat to furnish the needed color
contrast For the red back of the book, which before couldn't be
seen against the red of your suspenders--now I see that you have
been reading about forgeries in Bernheim's work on mental
suggestion--for you turned the book upside-down in putting it back.
So even that story of yours was stolen! For tins reason I think
myself entitled to conclude that your crime must have been
prompted by need, or by mere love of pleasure.

MR. Y. By need! If you only knew--

MR. X. If _you_ only knew the extent of the need I have had to face
and live through! But that's another story! Let's proceed with
your case. That you have been in prison--I take that for granted.
But it happened in America, for it was American prison life you
described. Another thing may also be taken for granted, namely,
that you have not borne your punishment on this side.

MR. Y. How can you imagine anything of the kind?

MR. X. Wait until the sheriff gets here, and you'll learn all
about it.

(MR. Y. gets up.)

ME. X. There you see! The first time I mentioned the sheriff, in
connection with the storm, you wanted also to run away. And when a
person has served out his time he doesn't care to visit an old
mill every day just to look at a prison, or to stand by the
window--in a word, you are at once punished and unpunished. And
that's why it was so hard to make you out. [Pause.]

MR. Y. [Completely beaten] May I go now?

MR. X. Now you can go.

MR. Y. [Putting his things together] Are you angry at me?

MR. X. Yes--would you prefer me to pity you?

MR. Y. [Sulkily] Pity? Do you think you're any bet