For a moment she could not utter a word; then
making a great effort, she replied:--
"You must not speak to me in that way."
"Then you will never say it?"
"Never!"
"Then you have not the least--" I broke off. It suddenly whirled
across my brain that if Kromitzki asked her, she would not refuse him;
and at this thought rage and despair deprived me of all consciousness.
I heard the rushing of waters in my ear, and everything grew dark
before my eyes. I only remember that I hurled a few horrible, cynical
words at her, such as no man should use against a defenceless woman,
and which I dare not put down in this diary. I remember as in a dream
that she looked at me with dilated eyes, took me by the sleeve, then
shook my shoulder, and said, anxiously:--
"Leon, what is the matter with you,--what ails you?"
What ailed me was that I was losing my senses. I tore my hand away and
rushed off in the opposite direction. After a moment I retraced my
steps; but she was gone. Then I understood only one thing: the time
had come to put an end to life. The thought seemed to me like a rift
in the dark clouds that weighed upon me. It was a strange state of
consciousness, in one direction. For the moment all thoughts about
myself, about Aniela, were wiped from my memory; but I contemplated
the thought of death with the greatest self-possession.
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