«I think you're a very dangerous person,» I answered spontaneously and with truthfulness. «I wouldn't be surprised if you were a famous spy.»
«You have strong intuitions,» she said. «No, I am not a spy, but....»
«Well, if you were you wouldn't tell me, I know that. I really don't want to know about your life. Do you know what I'm wondering? I'm wondering what you want of me. I feel as if I were in a trap.» «That's unkind of you. Now you're imagining things. If we did want something of you we would have to know you better, wouldn't we?» A moment's silence, then suddenly: «Are you sure you want to be nothing more than a writer?»
«What do you mean?» I retorted quickly. «Just that. I know you are a writer... but you could also be other things. You're the sort of person who could do anything he chose to do, isn't that so?» I'm afraid it's just the contrary,» I replied. «So far everything I've tackled has ended disastrously. I'm not even sure that I'm a writer, at this moment.»
She rose from my lap and lit herself a cigarette. «You couldn't possibly be a failure,» she said, after a moment's hesitation in which she seemed to be collecting herself to make some important revelation. «The trouble with you,» she said slowly and deliberately, «is that you've never set yourself a task worthy of your powers. You need bigger problems, bigger difficulties. You don't function properly until you're hard pressed. I don't know what you're doing but I'm certain that your present life is not suited to you. You were meant to lead a dangerous life; you can take greater risks than others because.... well, you probably know it yourself.... because you are protected.»
«Protected? I don't understand,» I blurted out. «Oh yes you do,» she answered quietly. «All your life you've been protected. Just think a moment.... Haven't you been near death several times.... haven't you always found some one to help you, some stranger usually, just when you thought all was lost? Haven't you committed several crimes already, crimes which nobody would suspect you of? Aren't you right now in the midst of a very dangerous passion, an affair which, if you weren't born under a lucky star, might lead you to ruin? I know that you're in love. I know that you're ready to do anything in order to satisfy this passion.... You look at me strangely... you wonder how I know. I have no special gifts— except the ability to read human beings at a glance. Look, a few moments ago you were waiting eagerly for me to come to you. You knew that I would throw myself in your arms as soon as he left. I did. But you were paralyzed—a little frightened of me, shall I say? Why? What could I do to you? You have no money, no power, no influence. What could you expect me to ask of you?» She paused, then added: «Shall I tell you the truth?»
I nodded helplessly.
«You were afraid that if I did ask you to do something for me you would not be able to refuse. You were perplexed because, being in love with one woman, you already felt yourself the potential victim of another. It isn't a woman you need—it is an instrument to liberate yourself. You crave a more adventurous life, you want to break your chains. Whoever the woman is you love I pity her. To you she will appear to be the stronger, but that is only because you doubt yourself. You are the stronger. You will always be stronger—because you can think only of yourself, of your destiny. If you were just a little stronger I would fear for you. You might make a dangerous fanatic. But that is not your fate. You're too sane, too healthy. You love life even more than your own self. You are confused, because whomsoever or whatever you give yourself to is never enough for you—isn't that true? Nobody can hold you for long: you are always looking beyond the object of your love, looking for something you will never find. You will have to look inside yourself if you ever hope to free yourself of torment. You make friends easily, I'm sure. And yet there is no one whom you can really call your friend. You are alone. You will always be alone. You want too much, more than life can offer...»
«Wait a moment, please,» I interrupted. «Why have you chosen to tell me all this?»
She paused a moment, as if hesitating to answer this directly. «I suppose I am merely answering a question in my own mind,» she said. «To-night I must make a grave decision; I leave in the morning on a long journey. When I saw you I said to myself —this may be the man who can help me. But I was wrong. I have nothing to ask of you... You may put your arms around me, if you like... if you are not afraid of me.»
I walked over to her, clasped her tightly and kissed her. I drew my lips away and looked into her eyes, my arms still about her waist.
«What is it you see?» she said, gently disengaging herself.
I moved away from her and looked at her steadily, for several moments, before answering. «What do I see? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. To look into your eyes is like looking into a dark mirror.»
«You're disturbed. What is it?»
«What you said about me—it frightens me... So I'm no help to you, is that it?»
«You have helped, in a way,» she replied. «You always help, indirectly. You can't help radiating energy, and that is something. People lean on you, but you don't know why. You even hate them for it, though you act as though you were kind and truly sympathetic. When I came here to-night I was a bit shaken inwardly; I had lost that confidence I usually have. I looked at you and I saw... what do you think?»
«A man flushed with his own ego, I suppose.»
«I saw an animal! I felt that you would devour me, if I were to let myself go. And for a moment or two I felt that I wanted to let myself go. You wanted to take me, throw me down on the carpet. To have me that way wouldn't have satisfied you, would it? You saw in me something you had never observed in another woman. You saw the mask which is your own.» She paused for just a second. «You don't dare to reveal your real self, nor do I. That much we have in common. I live dangerously, not because I am strong, but because I know how to make use of others' strength. I am afraid not to do the things I do because if I were to stop I would collapse. You read nothing in my eyes because there is nothing to read. I have nothing to give you, as I told you a moment ago. You look only for your prey, your victims on whom you fatten. Yes, to be a writer is probably the best thing for you. If you were to act out your thoughts you would probably become a criminal. You have always the choice of going two ways. It is not the moral sense which deters you from going the wrong way—it is your instinct to do only that which will serve you best in the long run. You don't know why it is you abandon your brilliant projects; you think it is weakness, fear, dubiety, but it isn't. You have the instincts of the animal; you make everything subservient to the desire to live. You would not hesitate to take me against my will, even if you knew you were in a trap. The man trap you are not afraid of, but the other trap, the trap which would set your feet in the wrong direction, that you are wary of. And you are right.» Again she paused. «Yes, you did me a great service. If I had not met you to-night I would have given in to my doubts.»
«Then you are about to do something dangerous,» I said.
She shrugged her shoulders. «Who knows what is dangerous? To doubt, that is dangerous. You will have a much more dangerous time of it than I. And you will cause a lot of harm to others in defending yourself from your own fears and doubts. You are not even sure at this moment that you will go back to the woman you love. I have poisoned your mind. You would drop her like that if you were sure that you could do what you wanted without her aid. But you will need her and you will call it love. You will always fall back on that excuse when you are sucking the life out of a woman.»