“It is useless,” he replied desolately, “I know myself. I am a straightforward man. I can’t change the idea which for two years has caused me to suffer as I have never suffered. I am too straightforward, and for this I pity you. I can’t change; when one is a man like I am one can’t pardon dishonour and absolve betrayal.”
She lowered her eyes and said no more, though she seemed very calm and indifferent.
“Well?” he said, questioning her anxiously.
“Well?” she questioned in turn.
“Haven’t you anything to say to me?”
“I? No,” she replied simply.
“What is your idea, then?”
“I have none,” she added, with the same simplicity.
“None? Nothing? Does nothing of this matter to you?” he cried, surprised.
“It would matter very much to me, if I could bring you a remedy. Your sufferings once moved me very much, you know, and I believed I could cure them. I have not succeeded. You haven’t wished to know me as a consoler. My mission here has failed completely. Instead of doing you good I am doing you harm. And in exchange you load me every time you can with expressions of your loathing and contempt. What is to be done? There is no remedy.”