I shrugged my shoulders and pretended to pay no attention to you. But it is here that the whole thing began.
I said that I pretended not to pay any attention to you. But, shall I tell you the truth? I not only did not forget about you after your insolent shout, but I began to experience a feeling of hatred for you. I had to make an effort to pretend that I did not notice you and to appear calm. But this did not end the matter. You shouted again, shouted so that everything that was going on in your soul at that time must have been in your shout, for it was so full of pure, divine joy, that God himself would have smiled had he heard you. But I jumped up from my chair in fury.
"Stop it!" I bellowed suddenly, myself astonished by the loudness of my tone. What devil was it that poured a whole barrel of fury upon me at that moment? I did not know what I was doing. For an instant your face became distorted with a lightning-like streak of horror.
"Ah!" you shouted again, and, just to show me that you were not afraid, you struck the floor again.
And I, I rushed at you, seized you by the arm so that you turned almost completely around, slapped you with a keen sense of satisfaction, and pushed you out of the room.
There's figures for you!
IV.
The pain of the blow, the sudden and sharp humiliation that struck your very heart in one of the most joyful moments of your childhood, caused you to set up such a dreadful cry, in such a high-pitched voice, that the best singer in the world would have envied the reach of your register. Then you were silent for a long time. . .But, filling your lungs with more air, you raised your voice to an even higher pitch, and the crying continued.
Gradually, the intervals between your high and your low notes began to decrease, and the cries followed each other in rapid succession. Then you began to call for help and, with a sense of painful pleasure, play the part of the dying.
"O—oh, it hurts! Mamma, I'm dying!"
"Never mind, you won't die," said I coldly. "You'll shout for a while, and then stop all right."
You still kept it up. Our conversation was broken off, of course. I was beginning to feel ashamed of myself. I lit a cigarette, without lifting my eyes to where grandma was sitting.
