“Man, you have at last understood what I wished to tell you. Now perhaps you will guess who I am, and why I have come.”
Sonpolyev waited until the trembling, shrill laughter ceased, and he answered his guest:
“You are the uniter of souls. But why did you not join us at our birth?”
The monster hissed, curled up, then stopped and threw upward one of his side heads and exclaimed:
“We can repair this if you like. Do you wish it?”
“I wish it,” Sonpolyev replied quickly.
“Call him to you on New Year’s Eve, and call me. This hair will enable you to summon me.”
The monster ran quickly to the lamp, and placing upon its stand a short, thin black hair continued speaking: “When you light it I’ll come. But you ought to know that neither you nor he will preserve afterward a separate existence. And the man who will depart from here shall contain both souls, but it will be neither you nor he.”
Then he disappeared. His shrill, rusty laughter still resounded and tormented the ear, but Sonpolyev no longer saw any one before him. Only a black hair on the flat stand of the lamp reminded him of his guest.
Sonpolyev took the hair and put it into his purse.