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XIII
literary endeavors—together in paris
IN the middle of September, 1889, when Sonya
returned to Stockholm, we met again after a
separation of nearly two years. I found her very much
changed. Her brilliant wit and playfulness had
disappeared. The wrinkle between her eyebrows had
deepened; her expression was gloomy and abstracted.
Even her eyes had lost the marvelous luster which was
their chief charm. They were now dull and sometimes
squinted slightly.
Sönya succeeded in hiding from her less intimate
friends her real feelings, and, to them, appeared much
the same as before. She even said that when she had
felt more depressed than usual in society, people would
remark of her that Madame Kovalévsky had been
really quite brilliant. But to us, who knew her well,
the change was only too apparent. She had lost all
wish for society, not only of strangers, but even of her
friends. She could not remain idle for a moment, and
only found peace in hard work. She recommenced her
lectures from a sense of duty, but had no longer any
real interest in them.
It was in literary composition that she now sought
an ontletfortheincreasingrestlessnesswhich consumed
her. This was partly because such work had points
of contact with her own inner life, and partly because
she had not yet recovered from the overstrain she had
272
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