means nothing to him. The type he loves is uncultured, shallow-brained animality.
He is as yet too youthful. Men's taste for women more spiritualized, more cultured, more quick-witted, is only a reaction: it shows a decline in the vital forces, and tells of old age about to set in.
All the time of our return home, he, rather in the clouds, holds forth with artificial animation.
"With you, Janka, I could well live alone in a wilderness, were you even twice as beautiful as you are—and never remember that I was in presence of a being of the other sex. And, indeed, this is the most natural thing in the world: if such a thought ever entered my brain, I should feel humiliated that a woman was mentally my equal."
"But is it with perfect disinterestedness that you have chosen a pretty young woman for your best friend?"
"Why should I not do so? That gives me the advantage of a double pleasure: not only can I enjoy your conversation; I can enjoy your appearance as well."
"You might just as easily take a handsome man for your friend."
