Девять рассказов
De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period
ThenIwentuptomyroomandsatdownonacushion.Isatthereforsurelyanhour,staringatadaylitholeinthewindowblind,withoutsmokingortakingoffmycoatorlooseningmynecktie.Then,abruptly,IgotupandbroughtoveraquantityofmypersonalnotepaperandwroteasecondlettertoSisterIrma,usingthefloorasadesk.
Inevermailedtheletter.Thefollowingreproductioniscopiedstraightfromtheoriginal.
Montreal,CanadaJune28,1939
DearSisterIrma,
DidI,bychance,sayanythingobnoxiousorirreverenttoyouinmylastletterthatreachedtheattentionofFatherZimmermannandcausedyoudiscomfortinsomeway?Ifthisisthecase,IbegyoutogivemeatleastareasonablechancetoretractwhateveritwasImayhaveunwittinglysaidinmyardortobecomefriendswithyouaswellasstudentandteacher.Isthisaskingtoomuch?Idonotbelieveitis.
Thebaretruthisasfollows:Ifyoudonotlearnafewmorerudimentsoftheprofession,youwillonlybeavery,veryinterestingartisttherestofyourlifeinsteadofagreatone.Thisisterrible,inmyopinion.Doyourealizehowgravethesituationis?
ItispossiblethatFatherZimmermannmadeyouresignfromtheschoolbecausehethoughtitmightinterferewithyourbeingacompetentnun.Ifthisisthecase,IcannotavoidsayingthatIthinkitwasveryrashofhiminmorewaysthanone.Itwouldnotinterferewithyourbeinganun.Ilivelikeanevil-mindedmonkmyself.Theworstthatbeinganartistcoulddotoyouwouldbethatitwouldmakeyouslightlyunhappyconstantly.
