Read The Face of Another for Free Online Page B

from him most of what was directly pertinent to my plans; I shouldhave left him then with the uncomfortable memory of our meeting. Those things which evoked shame in me could easily become the source of gossip. But I was tempted to let rumors fly, like keyhole whisperings. His feeling of embarrassment was beginning to infect me too. I started in on justifications that were better left unsaid.
    “I can just about imagine what you’re thinking. You get ideas when you relate my questions to this bandage, don’t you? But that would be a big mistake. It’s too late for me at my age to begin worrying over an injured face.”
    “You’re the one who’s mistaken. What in heaven’s name am I supposed to imagine?”
    “If I’m wrong, let it go. But even you unconsciously judge people by their faces, don’t you? I think it’s rather natural for you to be concerned about me. But if you really think about it, does an identity card fully identify the man it represents? My experience has made me do a lot of thinking. Don’t we actually cling too much to our identity cards? Because of them we produce freaks that devote themselves to forgery and alteration.”
    “I agree … completely … alteration is the right word … quite … they say that women who wear heavy make-up are frequently hysterical, but.…”
    “Incidentally, what would it be like if a man’s face were as expressionless as an egg, with no eyes, or nose, or mouth?”
    “Hmm. You couldn’t distinguish among people, I suppose.”
    “Between thieves and policemen … assailants and victims.…”
    “And
my
wife and my neighbor’s wife.…”—as if wanting help. He put a match to his cigarette and gave a short, soft laugh. “That’s interesting. Interesting, but there’s still something of a problem. For heaven’s sake, would human life be easier or not?”
    And I too laughed with him; perhaps I should have stopped at this point. But my thoughts had already taken on an uncontrollable momentum, circling constantly around my face. They could only go on circling, aware of the danger, until the centrifugal force broke them free.
    “Life wouldn’t be easier or not easier. Aren’t both generalizations logically impossible? Since there’s no correlation, there can be no comparison.”
    “When there is no correlation, that’s retrogression.”
    “Well, then. Are you trying to say that the difference in skin color has yielded a profit for history? I absolutely can’t accept such a meaning for correlation.”
    “Good heavens! Were you discussing the race problem? But isn’t that something of an overblown interpretation?”
    “If it were possible, I should like to blow it up as much as I could. To every single face in the world. Only, with a mug like mine the more I talk about it the more it becomes a prisoner’s lament.”
    “If you allow me to talk only about the race problem … but that’s too unreasonable … putting all responsibility on the face is.…”
    “But I’m asking you, every time I daydream about people on other planets I wonder why in heaven I always start with speculating on what they look like.”
    “We’re getting off the track again,” he said, vigorously stubbing out his cigarette after scarcely three puffs. “It would suffice, I should imagine, if you simply explained it as being due to curiosity.”
    I sensed keenly the sudden change of his tone, but just as abruptly as the plate stops spinning in a game of spin-the-plate, my façade fell away.
    “Just take a little look at that picture,” I said, still not having learned from experience and pointing to what was apparentlya reproduction of a European Renaissance portrait. “What do you think of that?”
    “Well, if I answer casually, you look as though you would snap me up, but … well, it’s stupid, isn’t it?”
    “I suppose it is. Putting a halo back of the face like that is a false, deceptive idea. Because of it, the face is instilled with