Taking him all in all, he is so intensely repulsive to me--with his
eyeglass, oblique eyes, long legs, and sallow, hairless face--that I
doubt if I am capable of judging him objectively. Nevertheless I am
quite sure that unless he loses his own money I shall not lose mine.
But I put it down, in all sincerity, that I would rather he lost the
money, his senses, his life, and went altogether to perdition.
I am ill. I have seen very little of Aniela lately,--partly by reason
of my headaches, that kept me confined to my room, and partly because
I wished to let her feel how deeply she had injured and grieved me.
Not to see her cost me great self-denial, for my eyes want her as
they want the light. I have already mentioned that with all her
inflexibility, she has a certain weakness: she cannot bear that
anybody should be angry with her; it frightens her, and she tries
her best to conciliate those that are angry. She is then meek, sweet
tempered, and looks into one's eyes with the pleading expression of a
child who is afraid to be punished. This always moved me deeply and
was my delight, as it kept up the delusion that I had only to open my
arms and she would fall upon my neck, if only to soften my resentment.
I cannot get rid altogether of this delusion, although convinced of
its futility; and even now I cherish some hope in a corner of my
heart that when we come to make it up, something will happen between
us,--she will make a kind of submission and will draw closer to me.
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