Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part two - VIII
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“Then Helge came home. You seemed to change then —
in a remarkably short time. The disagreeable things which
are the order of the day in our home impressed you too much;
it seemed impossible that an unsympathetic future mother-in-law
could completely spoil the happiness of a young loving
woman. I began to fear that there was some other deeper
cause that you would see for yourself later on, and that
perhaps you realized your love for Helge was not so strong as you
had imagined. Or that you understood you were not really
suited to each other, and that it was more a temporary emotion
which had brought you together. In Rome you were both
alone, young and free, happy in your work; in strange
circumstances, without the pressure of everyday ties, and both with
the youthful longing for love in your hearts. Was that not
enough to awaken a mutual sympathy and understanding even
if they did not penetrate to the very inmost of your being?”
Jenny stood by the window looking at him. While he was
speaking she felt an intense indignation at his words —
although he might be right. Yet he did not understand, as he
sat there plucking it all asunder, what it was that really hurt
her:
“It does not make it easier even if there is some sense in
what you say. Perhaps you are right.”
“Is it not better anyhow that you have realized it now than
if it had happened later, when the bonds would be stronger,
and the suffering much greater in breaking them?”
“It is not that — it is not that.” She interrupted herself
suddenly: “It is that I — yes — I despise myself. I have
given way to an emotional impulse — lied to myself; I ought
to have known if I could keep my word before I said: I love.
I have always hated that kind of levity more than anything in
the world. Now — to my shame — I find I have done that
very thing.”
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