MR. Y. [Twisting uneasily] Yes, but you won't believe what I say.
But I'll tell you. Then you can see for yourself that I am no
ORDINARY criminal. You'll become convinced, I think, that there
are errors which, so to speak, are involuntary--[twisting again]
which seem to commit themselves--spontaneously--without being
willed by oneself, and for which one cannot be held responsible--
May I open the door a little now, since the storm seems to have
passed over?

MR. X. Suit yourself.

MR. Y. [Opens the door; then he sits down at the table and begins
to speak with exaggerated display of feeling, theatrical gestures,
and a good deal of false emphasis] Yes, I'll tell you! I was a
student in the university at Lund, and I needed to get a loan from
a bank. I had no pressing debts, and my father owned some
property--not a great deal, of course. However, I had sent the
note to the second man of the two who were to act as security,
and, contrary to expectations, it came back with a refusal. For a
while I was completely stunned by the blow, for it was a very
unpleasant surprise--most unpleasant! The note was lying in front
of me on the table, and the letter lay beside it. At first my eyes
stared hopelessly at those lines that pronounced my doom--that is,
not a death-doom, of course, for I could easily find other
securities, as many as I wanted--but as I have already said, it
was very annoying just the same. And as I was sitting there quite
unconscious of any evil intention, my eyes fastened upon the
signature of the letter, which would have made my future secure if
it had only appeared in the right place. It was an unusually well-