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However, she had soon exhausted society life in
Stockholm; after a very short time she declared
that she knew everybody by heart, and she
began to long for new excitements. It was her
misfortune that she could never feel contented in
Stockholm, and perhaps nowhere in the world;
that she constantly wanted stimulus for her
mind. Everyday life, with its grey monotony,
was hateful to her; she was a gipsy-nature, as
she used to say herself, and did not feel capable
of cultivating civic virtues.
She attributed this peculiar temper to her
descent from a gipsy girl, whom her great
grandfather had married. It was a characteristic of
her intelligence as well; she was of a very
receptive, as well as highly productive, nature, and
required stimulation from the genius of others,
in order to produce something herself. Her
scientific work, indeed, was only a development
of her great master’s ideas.
And in her literary productions, too, she
absolutely needed exchange of ideas with others
who were occupied with the same kind of work.
In fact, life in a small town like Stockholm was
too stagnating for her; she could only thrive in
large European capitals.
This year—1884—she spent Christmas in
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