Yes, if I lived to be a hundred, I shall always hear the superhuman cry of grief and rage which he uttered when the terrible sight appeared before my eyes… I fell back against the wall and he came up to me, grinding his teeth hideously, and, as I fell upon my knees, he hissed mad, incoherent words and curses at me. Leaning over me, he cried, “Look! You want to see? See! Feast your eyes, glut your soul on my cursed ugliness! Look at Erik’s face! Now you know the face of the voice! You were not content to hear me, eh? You wanted to know what I looked like? Oh, you women are so inquisitive! Well, are you satisfied? I’m a good-looking fellow, eh?… When a women has seen me, as you have, she belongs to me. She loves me for ever! I am a kind of Don Juan, you know!” And, drawing himself up to his full height, with his hand on his hip, wagging the hideous thing that was his head on his shoulders, he roared, “Look at me! I am Don Juan triumphant!” And when I turned away my head and begged for mercy, he drew my head back to him, brutally, twisting his dead fingers into my hair.