human
Yes--some of my friends across the sea. I had not asked him--he had read my mind.
gpt
This one you did not see--I keep it behind the others--three of them, like a little pair of steps--all I have left. The oldest is named Olga, and that little one in the middle, with the cap on her head--that is Pauline.
human
Your children?
gpt
Yes.
human
Where are they?
gpt
Oh, many thousand miles from here! But we won't talk about it. They are well and happy. And this one --here he took down the photograph of the man in full uniform--
human
No sweetheart yet? No?--You needn't answer--we all have sweethearts at your age--at mine it is all over. But why did you leave her? It is so hard to do that. Ah, yes, I see--to make your bread. And how do you do it?
gpt
I write.
human
What sort of writing? Books? What is called a novel?
gpt
No--not yet. I work on special articles for the newspapers, and now and then I get a short story or an essay into one of the magazines.
human
Don't waste your time on essays or statistics. You will not succeed as a machine. You have imagination, which is a real gift. You also dream, which is another way of saying that you can invent. If you can add construction to your invention, you will come quite close to what they call genius. I saw all this in your face to-night; that is why I wanted to talk to you. So many young men go astray for want of a word dropped into their minds at the right time. As for me, all I know is statistics, and so I will never be a genius. And a light laugh broke from his lips.
gpt
Worse luck, too. I must exchange them for money. Look at this--I have been all day correcting the proofs.
human
It is the new encyclopaedia. I do the biographies, you see--principally of men and the different towns and countries. I have got down now to the R's--Richelieu--Rochambeau-- his fingers were now tracing the lines.
gpt
Here is Romulus, and here is Russia--I gave that half a column, and--dry work, isn't it? But I like it, for I can write here by my fire if I please, and all my other time is my own. You see they are signed 'Norvic Bing.' I insisted on that. These publishers are selfish sometimes, and want to efface a writer's personality, but I would not permit it, and so finally they gave in. But no more of that--one must eat, and to eat one must work, so why quarrel with the spade or the ground? See that you raise good crops--that is the best of all.
human
A feeble old man with hollow eyes and a cracked voice. Oh, such a pity! For he was royal--although all Europe laughed.