"Christina loved Jan"--so Nicholas mumbled to the dying fire--"when he
had the soul of Jan. She loves him still, though he has the soul of
Nicholas Snyders. When I asked her if she could love me, it was
terror I read in her eyes, though Jan's soul is now in me; she divined
it. It must be the body that is the real Jan, the real Nicholas. If
the soul of Christina entered into the body of Dame Toelast, should I
turn from Christina, from her golden hair, her fathomless eyes, her
asking lips, to desire the shrivelled carcass of Dame Toelast? No; I
should still shudder at the thought of her. Yet when I had the soul
of Nicholas Snyders, I did not loathe her, while Christina was naught
to me. It must be with the soul that we love, else Jan would still
love Christina and I should be Miser Nick. Yet here am I loving
Christina, using Nicholas Snyders' brain and gold to thwart Nicholas
Snyders' every scheme, doing everything that I know will make him mad
when he comes back into his own body; while Jan cares no longer for
Christina, would marry Dame Toelast for her broad lands, her many
mills. Clearly it is the soul that is the real man. Then ought I not
to be glad, thinking I am going back into my own body, knowing that I
shall wed Christina? But I am not glad; I am very miserable.
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