“More than a year!” she repeated dreamily. “I—I must sleep—I cannot——” She was silent for a few moments. “Yes—yes—I see the room again. The young woman is in it. She is seated at a little table—writing. She looks up—Oh, how sad and pale she is!—but she is still very beautiful. I am so sorry for her—she is so unhappy—and she is still in love, I can still feel it vibrating in me. She is picking up a photograph—she kisses it—it is yours!—she kisses it again and again. Why are you not with her? I feel that you are a great distance off—she does not know where you are. That worries her, because she loves you so.” She stopped.
“Go on,” said the doctor sternly. “What do you see next?”
“She puts away her writing hurriedly. She is frightened of something—someone is coming, I think—yes! The door opens—a soldier—no, a German officer! Oh, she is frightened of him, but she is brave! She stands up as he comes toward her. She draws back from him—he is between her and the door. He puts out his hands, tries to hold her—Ach!” her voice rose to a scream, “it is Heinrich!”
“Go on!” commanded the doctor. “Go on! What do you see?” His voice was terrible in its inexorability.
“Oh no, no!” she whispered. “No! Don’t make me see! don’t make me see! I don’t want to—I don’t want to—Ach, Heinrich, Heinrich!” Her voice came on a note of anguish. “I cannot bear it!”
The doctor frowned at the rigid figure with closed eyes that began to sway slightly to and fro upon its chair. Her face was drawn with a suffering beyond expression.
“See!” he commanded. “And tell me what you see!”
“Oh!” she moaned, “you are cruel—cruel! I do not want to see! I do not want to look!”
“You must!”
“Oh!” Evidently she surrendered helplessly. She commenced in a fatigued, dreary voice: “They are there together—the two of them! That beautiful woman—oh, I hate her now, I hate her!—Ach, Heinrich, have you forgotten me?” It was as if she called to him. “He does not hear me. His eyes are fixed on the woman.” She continued in short panting sentences uttered with increasing horror. “She is retreating from him—further and further back. He is following her. Oh, something terrible is going to happen—it is in the air—I feel it—something horrible!—What?—Ah, he is trying to kiss her! My Heinrich! Oh, how dreadful, how dreadful!—Oh, don’t make me see any more—don’t make me see any more!—He has got her in his arms—she is struggling. Oh, I can’t look—I will not look!—Oh, Heinrich, and I loved you so!” Her voice fell from the scream of a nightmare to a plaintive moaning. “Oh, no more—no more! I can bear no more!”