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The Story of Marie 77But the children gave her no peace: they teased her more thanever and threw dirt at her; they chased her, she ran away fromthem, she with her weak lungs, panting and gasping for breath.They still ran after her, shouting and reviling her. Once I positivelyhad a fight with them. Then I began talking to them; I talked tothem every day as much as I could. They sometimes stopped andlistened, though they still abused me. I told them how unhappyMarie was; soon they left off abusing me and walked away insilence. Little by little, we began talking together. I concealednothing from them; I told them the whole story. They listenedwith great interest and soon began to be sorry for Marie. Some ofthem greeted her in a friendly way when they met. It’s the customthere when you meet people, whether you know them or not, tobow and wish them good morning. I can fancy how astonishedMarie was. One day two little girls got some things to eat andgave them to her; they came and told me of it. They told me thatMarie cried, and that now they loved her very much. Soon all ofthem began to love her, and at the same time they began to loveme too. They took to coming to see me often and always askedme to tell them stories. I think I must have told them well, forthey were very fond of listening to me. And afterwards I read andstudied simply to have things to tell them, and for the remainingthree years I used to tell them stories.“Later on, when everybody blamed me – and even Schneider –for talking to them like grown-up people and concealing nothingfrom them, I said that it was a shame to deceive them; that theyunderstood everything anyway, however much things were concealedfrom them, and that perhaps they learned it in a bad way,but not so from me. One need only remember one’s own childhood.They did not agree…I kissed Marie a fortnight before hermother died; by the time the pastor delivered his harangue, all