This drove me to make my supreme resolve—to abandon, and flee from, the one love of my life.
Joergen, I owe you the best hours I have known: those hours in which you showed me the plans for the "White Villa."
I feel a bitter, yet unspeakable joy when I think that you yourself built the walls within which I am living in solitary confinement.
Once I longed for you with a consuming ardour.
Now, alas, I am but a pile of burnt-out ashes. The winds of heaven have dispersed my dreams.
I go on living because it is not in my nature to do away with myself. I live, and shall continue to live.
If only you knew what goes on within me, and how low I have sunk that I can write this confession!
There are thoughts that a woman can never reveal to the man she loves—even if her own life and his were at stake....
It is night. The stars are bright overhead. Joergen Malthe, why have I written all this to you?... What do I really want of you?...
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