Lili, who never told even a conventional lie, who watched over her children like an old-fashioned mother, careful of what they read and what plays they saw—how could she carry on an intrigue unknown to you and them? Perfectly impossible, my dear Professor. I don’t say that she didn’t speak the words you heard, but that you must have put a wrong interpretation on them.
Not once, but thousands of times, Lili has talked about you to me. She loved and honoured you. You were her ideal man, husband, and father.
She used literally to become eloquent on the subject of your operations.... She studied Latin in order that she might understand your scientific books, while, in spite of her natural repulsion from the sight of such things, she attended your anatomy classes and demonstrations.
When Lili said, “I love Schlegel and have loved him for years,” her words did not mean, “And all that time my love for you was extinct.”
No, Lili cared for Schlegel, and for you, too.... Probably you are saying to yourself, “A woman must love one man or the other.”
With some show of reason you will argue, “In leaving my house, at any rate, she proved that Schlegel alone claimed her affection.”
Nevertheless I maintain that you are wrong.
Lili showed every sign of a sane, well-balanced nature. Well, her famous serenity and calmness deceived us all. Behind this serene exterior was the most feminine of all feminine qualities—the fanciful imagination of the visionary. Do you or I know anything about her first girlish dreams? Have you, in spite of your happy life together, ever really understood her innermost soul? Forgive me, but I do not think you have.
When a man possesses a woman as completely as you possessed Lili, he thinks himself quite safe. You never doubted for a moment that, having you, she could wish for anything else.