Demian: The Story of Emil Sinclair's Youth

Part 18

Inconsolable, I walked across the desolate square, hands in my pockets. Further and greater agonies awaited me!
Suddenly a vigorous cheerful voice called me. I was startled and began to flee. Someone ran after me, a hand grasped me gently from behind. It was Max Demian.
"Oh, it's you," I said mistrustfully. "You gave me a terrible shock."
He looked down at me and never had his look been more adult, superior, the look of someone who could see through me. We had not spoken to each other for a long time.
"I feel sorry for you," he said in his polite yet decisive manner. "Listen, you can't let yourself be frightened like that."
  "Well, one can't always help it."
"So it seems. But look: if you practically go to pieces in front of someone who hasn't done you any harm, then that someone begins to think. He's surprised, he becomes inquisitive, he thinks you're remarkably high-strung and reaches the conclusion that people are always like that when they're deathly afraid. Cowards are constantly afraid, but you're not a coward, are you? Certainly, you're no hero either. There are some things you're afraid of, and some people, too. And that should never be, you should never be afraid of men. You aren't afraid of me? Or are you?"
"Oh, no, not at all."
"Exactly. But there are people you are frightened of?"
"I don't know. . . Why don't you let me be?"
He kept pace with me -- I had quickened my steps with thoughts of escaping -- and I felt him glancing at me from the side.
"Let's assume," he began again, "that I don't mean to do you any harm. At any rate, you've no need to be afraid of me. I'd like to try out an experiment on you. It might be fun and you might even learn something from it. Now pay attention! -- You see, I sometimes practice an art known as thought reading. There's no black magic about it but if you don't know how it's done it can seem very uncanny. You can shock people with it, too. Now let's give it a try. Well, I like you, or I'm interested in you and would like to discover what goes on inside you. I've already taken the initial step in that direction: I've frightened you -- so that you're nervous. There must be things and people that you're afraid of. If you are afraid of someone, the most likely reason is that this someone has something on you. For example, you've done something wrong
and the other person knows it -- he has a hold on you. You get it? Very clear, isn't it?"
I looked up helplessly at his face, which was as serious and intelligent as ever, and kind. Yet its detached severity lacked tenderness; impartiality or something similar was visible in it. I was hardly aware of what was happening to me: he stood before me like a magician.
"Have you got it?" he asked once more. I nodded, unable to speak.