By this token I am
more lawfully hers than he is.
There is something very strange going on within me at times. For
instance, when I am very tired or when my mind is concentrated upon
one point I seem to look into the future, into far-away space which
remains invisible to me in a normal state. Then there comes to me such
a conviction that Aniela belongs to me--that in some way she is or
will be mine--that when I wake up I have to remind myself that there
exists such a man as Kromitzki. Maybe in moments like those I cross
the boundary which separates the living from the dead, and have a
vision of things more perfect, such as the ideals we dream about,
as they might shape themselves in outward form. Why is it these two
worlds are not more in touch with each other? As often as I try to
solve this problem I lose myself; I cannot understand this want of
harmony, but feel dimly that therein lie our imperfection and our
misery. The thought comforts me, for in the ideal world Aniela could
not belong to a man like Kromitzki.
11 July.
Another disappointment, another plan shattered, but I have still hope
that all is not lost. I spoke to-day with Kromitzki about the Boyar
who sold his wife, and invented a whole story in order to discover his
real feelings. We met the Englishman with his purchased wife near the
Cascades.
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