Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part III - IV
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194 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
and her dog, I come to the conclusion that it was thanks
to my moderation, to my ascetic philosophy of life, which
taught me not to be exacting, especially in love. I loved
her so much that I irritated her, and more than once she
plainly showed me that my passionate temperament bored
her. But everything was forgotten and forgiven at those
rare moments when she caressed me, when she took my
throbbing head into her lap, when her fingers played with
my hair. This was happiness unspeakable, and like a fool
I stammered out the confession that life without her
would be impossible, that my existence hung on a thread
which she held in her hand. In this way I fostered a
conviction in her that she was a higher being, and the
consequence was that she treated me with flattery and
blandishments as if I were a spoilt child. She knew that
I was in her power, and did not scruple to abuse it.
When the summer came she went into the country and
took her maid with her. She moreover persuaded her
friend to accompany her, for she was afraid of feeling
lonely during the week when my work kept me at the
library. It was in vain that I objected, that I reminded
her that her friend was not in a position to pay, and that
our means were limited ; Marie looked upon me as a
"spirit of evil," and reproached me with speaking ill of
everybody. I gave in eventually, in order to avoid
unpleasantness. I gave in—alas ! I always gave in.
After a whole week’s loneliness I welcomed Saturday
as a red-letter day. With a jubilant heart I caught an
early train and then set out joyfully for half-an-hour’s
walk under the scorching sun, carrying bottles and pro-
visions for the week. My blood danced through my
veins, my pulses throbbed at the thought of seeing Marie
in a few moments ; she would come to meet me with open
arms, her hair flying in the breeze, her face rosy with
the sweet country air. In addition I was hungry and
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