At other times I would drift into an
arithmetical mood and sit up all night doing problems
When I happened to be in raptures over some book I would pester
Jake with lengthy accounts of it, dwelling on the chapters I had
read last and trying to force my exaltation upon him. As a rule, he
was bored, but sometimes he would become interested in the plot
or in some romantic scene.
One evening, as we were discussing love in general, I said: "Love
is the greatest thing in the world."
"Sure it is," he answered. "But if you love and are not loved in
return it is nothing but agony."
"Even then it is sweet," I rejoined, reflectively, the image of
Matilda before me.
"How can pain be sweet?"
"But it can."
"If you were really in love with Madame Klesmer you wouldn't
think so
"I love her as much as you do."
"You are always saying you do, but you don't."
"Yes, I do." And suddenly lapsing into a confidential tone, I
questioned him: "By the way, Jake, is this the first time you have
ever been in love?"
"Why?"
"I just want to know.
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