“Two weeks or so passed. One evening I was sitting at my window, softly whistling and thinking hard how to get away from myself. I felt very bored. The weather was as nasty as it could be. To go out that evening was out of the question, and having nothing better to do I began from sheer ennui a course of self-analysis. This proved dull enough work, but there was nothing else to do. Suddenly the door opened, thank God! Some one was coming to see me.
“‘Are you very busy just now, Pan Student?’
“‘Teresa! H’m—’ I thought I would have preferred any one at all to her. Then I said aloud:
“‘No, what is it you want now?’
“‘I wish to ask the Pan Student to write me another letter.’
“‘Very well. Is it again to Boless you wish me to write?’
“‘No, this time I want you to write a letter from Boless to me.’
“‘Wha-at?’
“‘I beg your pardon, Pan Student. How stupid of me! It is not for me, this letter, but for a friend of mine, a man acquaintance; he has a fiancée. Her name is like mine, Teresa. He does not know how to write, so I want the Pan Student to write for him a letter to that Teresa—’
“I looked at her. She seemed very confused and frightened, and her fingers trembled. And though I failed at first to understand what was the matter with her I at last understood.