"That is true," said the Student, and he bowed his head, and let go of Gerold's arm. Then he added with a peculiar smile, "Each one to his taste. You represent one element in public opinion, and not the worst element by any means. It might be better really if other people would beat one as openly and frankly as you—that's one point of view, and it leaves one in no doubt as to what is coming, and one can defend one's self. But you didn't need to hit so hard. I would have understood the least hint. You know you may be running about in the woods yourself, some day, with everybody laughing at you, when you have reached my age and your bad angel has come for you. I don't make any such wish for you. But you run a risk of it, with those eyes of yours, just like a little St. John's!"
Gerold had something better to do, however, than to listen to all this. He was fascinated by a crocodile, cut in some kind of green stone, which was hanging from the Student's watch chain.
"That is a wonderful crocodile, isn't it?" said the Foolish Student, laughing again. "If you will come to my hermitage with me, I will show you even stranger things than that. Do you want to come?"
Gerold nodded, and followed the Student into the forest and over a soft carpet of moss along a little brook, which ran by some piles of boulders.
"Do you like Gesima very much?" asked the Student as they walked.
"I detest Gesima. She is deceitful."
"That's not a reason. A man may like deceitful girls as much as true ones, even more sometimes. You don't under-
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