Dresden, June 15, 1899.
I frequently drive to the Bois nowadays with the children, the Bois, where I was so happy with Him.
Romano was right, a thousand times right, that he abandoned me when our love was at its zenith.
At Midnight.
It's done.
Barthels came tonight. He was so feverish, so passionate, there was so much humble solicitation in his looks and manners, I was moved to pity.
This man is too over-awed by my rank to ever permit himself to express his feelings by word of mouth. He talked of everything but love and was in the midst of a learned dissertation when I sunk my eyes in his and said:
"Why do you try to hide things from me? Don't I know what's in your heart?"