I reread it many times. "Something that has happened." But I'm going to
Sweden, I'm going to move about a little, and stop losing myself in the
affairs of others. Do they think I am mankind's old uncle, that I can be
summoned hither and thither to give advice? Excuse me, but I am going to
assert myself and become quite inaccessible; the snow is just right, and I
have planned a big journey--a business tour, I might almost call it, very
important to me--I have a great deal at stake.... How composite is the
mind of man! As I sit talking drivel to myself, and even sometimes saying
an angry word aloud in order that Petra may hear it, I am not at all
displeased at having received this letter; in fact secretly I am so
pleased that I feel ashamed. It is merely because I shall soon see the
town again--the town with its frostbitten gardens and its ships.
But what on earth can this mean? Has she been to my landlady's and got my
address? Or has she met Nikolai?