We do not use that word, but I have liked many girls. One
time I was sick because I couldn't have the one I wanted--sick,
you understand, like the princesses in the Arabian Nights who could
not eat nor drink for love sickness.
JULIE. Who was she? [Jean is silent.] Who was she?
JEAN. That you could not make me tell.
JULIE. Not if I ask you as an equal, as a--friend? Who was she?
JEAN. It was you!
[Julie seats herself.]
JULIE. How extravagant!
JEAN. Yes, if you will, it was ridiculous. That was the story I
hesitated to tell, but now I'm going to tell it. Do you know how
people in high life look from the under world? No, of course you
don't. They look like hawks and eagles whose backs one seldom sees,
for they soar up above. I lived in a hovel provided by the state,
with seven brothers and sisters and a pig; out on a barren stretch
where nothing grew, not even a tree, but from the window I could
see the Count's park walls with apple trees rising above them. That
was the garden of paradise; and there stood many angry angels with
flaming swords protecting it; but for all that I and other boys
found the way to the tree of life--now you despise me.
JULIE. Oh, all boys steal apples.
JEAN. You say that, but you despise me all the same. No matter! One
time I entered the garden of paradise--it was to weed the onion
beds with my mother! Near the orchard stood a Turkish pavilion,
shaded and overgrown with jessamine and honeysuckle. I didn't know
what it was used for and I had never seen anything so beautiful.
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