A
man
can
be
drunk
with
joy.
I
fire
off
my
gun,
and
an
unforgettable
echo
answers
from
hill
to
hill,
floats
out
over
the
sea
and
rings
in
some
sleepy
helmsman鈥檚
ears.
And
what
have
I
to
be
joyful
about?
A
thought
that
came
to
me,
a
memory;
a
sound
in
the
woods,
a
human
being.
I
think
of
her,
I
close
my
eyes
and
stand
still
there
on
the
road,
and
think
of
her;
I
count
the
minutes.
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atm
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Still Glahn made no answer. Instead, he showed his childishness once more, shooting the dead leopard again, this time through the head. I looked at him in utter astonishment.
Sit down,鈥� I said, and tell me your name.鈥�
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