Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part I - XI
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142 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
thrice-married grandfather? Your mother’s hatred of
bearing cliildren which is the cause of your vacillating
disposition ? The idleness of your husband, whose profes-
sion left him too much leisure? My instincts? The
instincts of the man who has risen from the lower classes ?
My accidental meeting with your Finnish friend who
brought us together? An endless number of motives, a
few of which only are known to us. Don’t debase yourself
before the mob who will unanimously condemn you to-
morrow ; don’t believe, like those poor in spirit, that you
can solve such an intricate problem by taking neither the
crime nor the criminal seriously!. . . And, moreover,
have I seduced you ? Be candid with yourself, Avith me,
while we’re here alone, without witnesses."
But she would not be candid.
She could not, for candour is not a woman’s character-
istic.
She kneAv herself to he an accomplice in crime ; she was
tortured by remorse- She had but one tliought, to ease
her conscience by throwing the whole blame on me.
I left her to herself, and wrapped myself in a callous
silence.
Night fell. I opened the window and leaned against the
door, gazing at the quickly-passing black Scotch firs,
behind which tlie pale moon was rising. Then a lake
passed, surrounded by birch trees ; a brook bordered by
alders ; cornfields, meadows, and then Scotch firs again, a
long stretch of them. A mad desire to throw myself out
of the carriage seized me ; a desire to escape from this
prison where I was watched by an enemy, kept spell-bound
by a witch. But the anxiety for her future oppressed me
like a nightmare ; I felt responsible for her, who was a
stranger to me, for her unborn children, for the support
of her mother, her aunt, her whole family, for centuries
to come.
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