sleep was deep and heavy, and when I awakened I felt that I had
been dreaming, but I could not recall the dream; however, it seemed as
though the door to my dream opened a little when I saw the writing table
and the note in memory--and when I got up I was driven to the table
absolutely, as if, after ripe consideration, I had made the irrevocable
resolution to write that name on the fateful paper. All thought of risk,
of consequence, had disappeared--there was no wavering--it was almost
as if I were fulfilling a precious duty--and I wrote. [Springs to his
feet.] What can such a thing be? Is it inspiration, hypnotic suggestion,
as it is called? But from whom? I slept alone in my room. Could it
have been my uncivilized ego, the barbarian that does not recognize
conventions, but who emerged with his criminal will and his inability to
calculate the consequences of his deed? Tell me, what do you think about
such a case?

MR. X. [Bored]. To be honest, your story does not quite convince me.
There are holes in it,--but that may be clue to your not being able to
remember all the details,--and I have read a few things about criminal
inspirations--and I recall--h'm--but never mind. You have had your
punishment, you have had character enough to admit your error, and we
won't discuss it further.

MR. Y. Yes, yes, yes, we will discuss it; we must talk, so that I can
have complete consciousness of my unswerving honesty.

MR. X. But haven't you that?

MR. Y. No, I haven't.

MR. X. Well, you see, that's what bothers me, that's what bothers me.
Don't you suppose that each one of us has a skeleton in his closet? Yes,
indeed! Well, there are people who continue to be children all their
lives, so that they cannot control their lawless desires. Whenever the
opportunity comes, the criminal is ready. But I cannot understand why
you do not feel innocent. As the child is considered irresponsible, the
criminal should be considered so too. It's strange--well, it doesn't
matter; I'll regret it later. [Pause.] I killed a man once, and I never
had any scruples.

MR. Y. [Very interested]. You--did?

MR. X. Yes--I did. Perhaps you wouldn't like to take a murderer's hand?

MR. Y. [Cheerily]. Oh, what nonsense!

MR. X. Yes, but I have not been punished for it.

MR. Y. [Intimate, superior]. So much the better for you. How did you get
out of it?

MR. X. There were no accusers, no suspicions, no witnesses. It happened
this way: one Christmas a