"This was the state of mind in which Erik found me. After giving three

taps on the wall, he walked in quietly through a door which I had not

noticed and which he left open. He had his arms full of boxes and

parcels and arranged them on the bed, in a leisurely fashion, while I

overwhelmed him with abuse and called upon him to take off his mask, if

it covered the face of an honest man. He replied serenely, 'You shall

never see Erik's face.' And he reproached me with not having finished

dressing at that time of day: he was good enough to tell me that it was

two o'clock in the afternoon. He said he would give me half an hour

and, while he spoke, wound up my watch and set it for me. After which,

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he asked me to come to the dining-room, where a nice lunch was waiting

for us.

"I was very angry, slammed the door in his face and went to the

bath-room ... When I came out again, feeling greatly refreshed, Erik

said that he loved me, but that he would never tell me so except when I

allowed him and that the rest of the time would be devoted to music.

'What do you mean by the rest of the time?' I asked. 'Five days,' he

said, with decision. I asked him if I should then be free and he said,

'You will be free, Christine, for, when those five days are past, you

will have learned not to see me; and then, from time to time, you will

come to see your poor Erik!' He pointed to a chair opposite him, at a

small table, and I sat down, feeling greatly perturbed. However, I ate

a few prawns and the wing of a chicken and drank half a glass of tokay,

which he had himself, he told me, brought from the Konigsberg cellars.

Erik did not eat or drink. I asked him what his nationality was and if

that name of Erik did not point to his Scandinavian origin. He said

that he had no name and no country and that he had taken the name of

Erik by accident.

"After lunch, he rose and gave me the tips of his fingers, saying he

would like to show me over his flat; but I snatched away my hand and

gave a cry. What I had touched was cold and, at the same time, bony;

and I remembered that his hands smelt of death. 'Oh, forgive me!' he

moaned. And he opened a door before me. 'This is my bedroom, if you

care to see it. It is rather curious.' His manners, his words, his

attitude gave me confidence and I went in without hesitation. I felt

as if I were entering the room of a dead person. The walls were all

hung with black, but, instead of the white trimmings that usually set

off that funereal upholstery, there was an enormous stave of music with

the notes of the DIES IRAE, many times repeated. In the middle of the

room was a canopy, from which hung curtains of red brocaded stuff, and,

under the canopy, an open coffin. 'That is where I sleep,' said Erik.

'One has to get used to everything in life, even to eternity.' The

sight upset me so much that I turned away my head.




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