Then stumbling, muttering, I told him everything that is recorded in these pages.⁠ ⁠… About my real self, and about my hairy self, and about my hands⁠ ⁠… yes⁠ ⁠… exactly that was the beginning. And how I would not do my duty then, and how I lied to myself, and how she obtained false certificates for me, and how I grew worse and worse, every day, and about the long corridors underground, and there beyond the Wall.⁠ ⁠…

All this I threw out in formless pieces and lumps. I would stutter and fail to find words. The lips double-curved in a smile would prompt me with the word I needed and I would nod gratefully: “Yes, yes!”.⁠ ⁠… Suddenly, what was it? He was talking for me and I only listened and nodded: “Yes, yes,” and then, “Yes, exactly so,⁠ ⁠… yes, yes.⁠ ⁠…”

I felt cold around my mouth as though it were wet with ether, and I asked with difficulty:

“But how is it.⁠ ⁠… You could not learn anywhere.⁠ ⁠…”

He smiled a smile growing more and more curved; then: