“Don’t you think that we often, day after day, for months on end, pass quite close to somebody....”
“Somebody who, if we met him or her, would influence our lives?...”
“Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“I’m certain of it.”
“It’s curious to think of.... In the street, sometimes, one’s always meeting the same people, without knowing them.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. In New York, when I was a tram-driver, there was a woman who always got into my car; and, without being in love with her, I used to think I should like to speak to her, to know her, to meet her....”
“And how often it is the other way round! I have met thousands of people and forgotten their names and what they said to me. They were like ghosts. That is how we meet people in society.”
“Yes, it’s all so futile....”
“You exchange names, exchange a few sentences ... and nothing remains, not the slightest recollection....”
“Yes, it all vanishes.”