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THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL 21
the instincts of the commoner who never fails to admire
the upper classes, the purer blood ? —a feeling which
would die on the day on which she stood less high—the
adoration which I had conceived for her resembled in
every point the religion from which I had just emancipated
myself. I wanted to adore, I was longing to sacrifice
myself, to suffer without hope of any other reward but the
ecstasies of worship, self-sacrifice and suffering.
I constituted myself her guardian angel. I wanted to
watch over her, lest the power of my love should sweep
her off her feet and engulf her. I carefully avoided being
alone with her, so that no familiarity which her husband
might resent should creep in between us.
But to-day, on the eve of her departure, I found her
alone in the shrubbery. We exchanged a few common-
places. But presently my excitement rose to such a pitch
that it communicated itself to her. Gazing at her with
burning eyes, I saw the desire to confide in me forming
itself in her heart. She told me that the thought of a
separation from husband and child, however short, made
her miserable. She implored me to spend as much of my
leisure with them as I could, and not to forget her while
she was looking after my interests in Finland.
"You love her very much—with all your heart, don’t
you? " she asked, looking at me steadfastly.
" Can you ask ?" I replied, depressed by the painful lie.
For I had no longer any doubt that my May dream
had been nothing more than a fancy, a whim, a mere
pastime.
Afraid of polluting her with my passion, fearful of
entangling her against my will in the net of my emotions,
intending to protect her against myself, I dropped the
perilous subject and asked after her husband. She pulled
a face, evidently interpreting my somewhat strange
behaviour quite correctly. Perhaps, also—the suspicion
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