"Aniela dear! I would not marry that girl for anything in the world,
but you ought to enter a little in my position. I have troubles enough
to bear, and even here they will not leave me in peace. You know best
that I could never dream of such a step."
"On the contrary, I should be glad if that happened," she said, with
evident effort.
"It is not true! I have seen you changing color,--I have seen it."
"Permit me to go away."
"Aniela mine! you love me! do not lie to me and to yourself; you love
me!"
She grew white to her lips.
"No," she replied quickly; "but I am afraid I might learn to hate
you."
And with that she left the room. I know that to a woman who fights
with herself, a bitter and forbidden love often seems akin to hatred;
and yet Aniela's words staggered me and extinguished the newborn hope,
as one blows out a candle. There are many quite natural things in this
world which we are strong enough to bear but for our nerves. I am
struck by a truth not recognized by me formerly, not recognized
generally,--that love for another man's wife, if only a pastime is
the greatest vileness, and if real, the greatest misfortune that
can happen to any man; the more worthy the woman the greater the
misfortune. I have a burning curiosity within me, very bitter at the
same time, as to what Aniela would do if I said to her: "Either put
your arms round my neck and own that you love me, or I will blow out
my brains here before your eyes!" I know it would be the meanest thing
in the world, and I should never force her hand in that way; no!
whatever I may be, I am not bad enough for that! But I cannot help
thinking, "What would she do?" I am almost certain she would not
survive the shock and the scorn of herself, but she would not yield.
Pages:
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383