Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XXVI. Miss Hall
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own right and another ten thousand from her
first husband, who had got out of it cheap.
Couldn’t he have her locked up in America?
He had tried in vain, she was not supposed
to be mad enough, he would like to know what
more was wanted of her. Couldn’t I have her
locked up in Italy?
I feared not.
We looked at each other with growing
sympathy.
He told me that according to Dr. Jenkins’s
statistics she had never been in love with the
same doctor for more than a month, the average
was a fortnight, my time would soon be up in
any case, wouldn’t I have pity on him and hold
out until the spring?
Alas, Dr. Jenkins’s statistics proved wrong,
she remained my chief tormentor during my
whole stay in Rome. She invaded Capri in the
summer. She wanted to drown herself in the
Blue Grotto. She climbed the garden wall of
San Michele; in my exasperation I nearly threw
her over the precipice. I almost think I would
have done it had not her husband warned me
before we parted that a drop of thousand feet
would mean nothing to her.
I had good reason for believing him, only a
couple of months before a half-crazy German
girl had jumped over the famous wall of the
Pincio and escaped with a broken ankle. After
she had worn out all the resident German doctors
in turn I had become her prey. It was a
particularly trying case, for Fräulein Frida had an
uncanny facility for writing poetry, her lyrical
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