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Plays by August Strindberg, Second series by August Strindberg
page 216 of 327 (66%)
were acting as godmother, and I made him kiss you--and he did, but
both of you looked terribly embarrassed--that is, I didn't think of
it then--or afterwards, even--I never thought of it—-till--_now_!
[Rises impulsively] Why don't you say something? You have not
uttered a single word all this time. You've just let me go on
talking. You've been sitting there staring at me only, and your
eyes have drawn out of me all these thoughts which were lying in me
like silk in a cocoon--thoughts--bad thoughts maybe--let me think.
Why did you break your engagement? Why have you never called on us
afterward? Why don't you want to be with us to-night?

[MISS Y. makes a motion as if intending to speak.]

MRS. X. No, you don't need to say anything at all. All is clear to
me now. So, that's the reason of it all. Yes, yes! Everything fits
together now. Shame on you! I don't want to sit at the same table
with you. [Moves her things to another table] That's why I must put
those hateful tulips on his slippers--because you love them.
[Throws the slippers on the floor] That's why we have to spend the
summer in the mountains--because you can't bear the salt smell of
the ocean; that's why my boy had to be called Eskil--because that
was your father's name; that's why I had to wear your colour, and
read your books, and eat your favourite dishes, and drink your
drinks--this chocolate, for instance; that's why--great heavens!--
it's terrible to think of it--it's terrible! Everything was forced
on me by you—-even your passions. Your soul bored itself into mine
as a worm into an apple, and it ate and ate, and burrowed and
burrowed, till nothing was left but the outside shell and a little
black dust. I wanted to run away from you, but I couldn't. You were
always on hand like a snake with your black eyes to charm me--I
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