The hall of mirrorsHe was not miserable when he arrived, not as miserable as I wished. I adore wretched people. There is something fiercely interesting in deep despair, in the wringing of hands at the irreparable, in howling upon the brink of suicide. Then one truly learns human nature; one may blend ones personality with lifes delicious fever. I am not raving; I speak quite naturally. Not every woman can seek consolation in religious ecstasy. A dead body is found in an