Mudarra, on leaving the countess's room, went in the direction of
his own and, dominated by a strong feeling of nervous anxiety,
started to search for letters and papers muttering to himself:
"I can't stand it anymore. You'll pay me back for all of this."
Then he sat down, took up his pen, and, putting in front of him
one of those letters and examining it closely, he began to write
another, trying to copy the writing. He moved his eyes feverishly
from the model to the copy and finally, after a great deal of work,
he wrote with writing totally identical to that of the model, the
following letter, the sentiments in which were of his own making:
I promised to meet with you and I'm hastening to carry out that
promise.
The newspaper in which this serial appeared was torn and I could
read no further.