I would rather give her the palm straight off, and have nothing to do with the little boy; but still, if it gives her any pleasure, well, I’ll have him this afternoon, but directly the hour is over, clean sheets.
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To my eternal shame I am bound to confess that I have lost the palm. It may be that all the nun’s sentimental gabble has affected my brain! I, who abhor the scent of little children, and shudder to touch them.
He lay perfectly still and squinted up at me, sucking a finger. It was the little finger. I really shouldn’t mind losing another palm, but my pride, God be praised, prevents my giving expression to the wish.
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He doesn’t cry when he is with me. Nobody can understand it. In the night when he was crying, I, foolish old person, rose from my bed of measles, and went to look in on him. I thought the nurse had gone away. It was rather a painful situation.
Dear Professor Rothe,[1]
Your letter was such a shock to me that I could not answer it at once.... That is why I sent you the brief telegram in reply, the words of which I am sorry I must repeat, “I know nothing about the matter.” Lili has never spoken of it to me, or made the least allusion which could cause me to suspect such a thing. I may truthfully say that I never heard her mention the name of Director Schlegel. My first idea was that Lili had gone out of her mind, and I was surprised that you, a medical man, should not have come to the same conclusion.
But, after thinking it over for the last two days, I have changed my opinion. I think I am beginning to understand what has happened, and I beg you to hold me alone responsible for what I am going to say.... I am only making suppositions. Lili has not broken her marriage vows. Any suspicion of such a thing is out of the question, her nature was too upright, too loyal.... If she appeared to you and the world happy in her married life, it was because she really was so. I entreat you to believe this.