1583. Every day she found something new to add to her collection, thereby increasing my value day by day. Obviously I knew nothing about any of this having not been born yet, but my father explained it all to me, endlessly justifying and forgiving my mother for what she had done to him. He was very understanding in that way.
1584. Even when he found out that he was not actually my father, it didn’t seem to upset him. Telling me about it when I was ten, he could only see the humorous aspect of it, having been convinced that I was premature and saying with a laugh, “Who but me would believe a fifteen pound baby would be 3 months premature.”
1585. I was such a big and sturdy baby that while still in my diapers I was christened, “The General,” and I have always had that name. My father found out that I was not his child in this fashion. He was in the habit of asking any passing gypsy if they had any knowledge of my mother. After a number of years his persistent questions bore fruit.
1586. A young man whose occupation was repairing copper pots visited us. He claimed to have definite knowledge of my mother. He warned my father that he would not be happy with the information. For a fee he revealed that my actual father was a famous and powerful man. This man, it turned out was also named, “The General.” He had acquired this name not because of his appearance, but because he actually was a general.