Many great historical documents have been torn up since then, but that letter is still in my possession.
"Now I cannot go to bed. I will stay up until morning and finish the work I have neglected. I thank you for what you have written in my stead, but I cannot accept it. I shall do it myself. I shall do everything in which I am behindhand."
"Good, Desi, my boy, but you see our candle has burned down; and grandmother is already asleep, so I cannot ask her for one. Still, if you do wish to sit up, go down to the bakehouse, they are working all night, as to-morrow is Saturday: take your ink, paper, and books with you. There you can write and learn your lessons."
I did so. I descended to the court, washed my head beside the fountain, then took my books and writing material and descended to the bakehouse, begging Márton to allow me to work there by lamp-light. Márton irritated me the whole night with his satire, the assistants jostled me, and drove me from my place; they sang the "Kneading-trough" air, and many other street-songs: and amid all these abominations I studied till morning; what is more, I finished all my work.
That night, I know, was one of the turning-points in my life.
Two days later came Sunday: I met Pepi in the street.
"Well, old fellow: are you not coming to-day to see little Melanie? There will be a great dance-rehearsal."
"I cannot: I have too much to do."
Pepi laughed loudly. "Very well, old fellow."