"You know a lot," David noted. He couldn't get rid of this regret at being so average and bland compared to Gustav, who was almost a walking ideal. It was just…
"I like to know," Gustav admitted. "It's part of my job, you know, as a writer. But I only know theoretical things. What impresses me is how you handle practical matters."
Was that a compliment? David felt pleasant. He grunted.
"My grandmother always said that people have different skill sets just to make the world more interesting," he said.
"Your grandmother might have been right," admitted Gustav, looking at the surface of the pond, on which, admittedly, no ducks were swimming, but frogs were hopping, and vine snails were slowly crawling on the shore. "But don't say you never had complexes about someone who seemed better to you," he said.
"Don't say you had them," smiled David with doubt.
"I have them all the time," admitted Meiden. "Toward my father. Toward Felix. Toward you..."
