"I sought to comfort her as well as I could, promising to do nothing without her knowledge; but her distress only increased. 'Think of your wife, of your daughter! O God! if I should be the cause--'
"I seized her hand; she sank on my breast in uncontrollable emotion; and as if in a dream, I held her thus embraced, and felt her slender figure trembling in my arms, yet did not even touch her hair with my lips; in that moment all passionate impulses yielded to the deep pity which I felt for her.
"And so, drawing myself away, I bade her a cheerful 'Good-night!' and went to my room.
"I was obliged to quiet my wife also, for she feared that the affair would have consequences. I myself did not believe it. I knew that in professional gamblers all feelings, even those of honor, become completely deadened. And I judged correctly.
"I remained at home all the following day. He neither appeared himself, nor sent a messenger. The Countess took refuge with us, for she was in constant fear of a surprise. The two women sat together on the balcony with their embroidery, apparently engaged in careless conversation, but in reality watching me. Not a word was said of that which occupied our thoughts. When the day had passed without bloodshed, my wife accompanied her friend to her room, and remained with her that night. On the next day, we heard that the Count was again in Geneva, whence he soon afterward disappeared to some other German gambling house.
"You will comprehend that this intermezzo bound us still more closely to each other. We were together nearly all day long, and I occasionally wondered that my wife, who had formerly known all my thoughts even before they were clear to myself, allowed, indeed, unmistakably favored, this harmful playing with fire. She did not hesitate to leave us tête-à-tête, although, as a fact, there was no enjoyment in such a talk. I usually took refuge at such times in a stubborn silence, which, to any third person, would have seemed veritable rudeness. I often denied myself the pleasure of seeing her by pretending indolence, absence of mind, or pressing business; all of which excuses were accepted without comment. At first mild-tempered and somewhat melancholy, she gradually became irritable and capricious. My wife, noticing this, often reproved her gently, and, with sisterly patience and kindliness, tried to calm her wild moods of rebellion against fate.
"My wife and I no longer spoke of her. Yet often, when I looked up from my reading unexpectedly, I encountered a strange, questioning look in my wife's eyes; a look such as a physician casts upon a mortally sick man by whose bedside he watches.
"I was certainly ill, yet not so desperately but that I still sought for a cure, though with ever-lessening hope of finding one. Music, to which I resorted in the hope of relief, poured oil upon the flames. After I had played an hour or two alone, the piano below would begin its reply, so it was not a conversation or duet, but a discourse in long monologues. Surrendering to this dangerous comfort on two mornings, I ended in a species of intoxication. I then tried the effect of separation, and arranged a climbing party which kept me away over night. Then I felt the truth of what I told you at first; the new passion was equal to the old, but not stronger. I missed them both with the same longing--indeed, could no longer separate them in my thoughts. When I saw them again, I felt the same heart-throbs twice. I was not then so philosophical that I could accept this as something rational and ordinary; it was strange and unprecedented, yet I felt that it was not immoral. It harmed no one, and far from estranging me from myself, rather enriched my inner life. No, it was not immoral, though I realized, at the time, that it was a great misfortune, and would become a sin if it undermined my dear wife's peace and happiness. I tried to find some way of escape, though I knew it would be at the price of killing or forever stifling half of my heart.
"We lived thus for about fourteen days after her brother's departure, each day bringing something new, either a trip on the boat or a walk to a neighboring place, when, one afternoon, we arranged to meet at the landing-place below the garden, and make a boat-trip to Chillon. I was first. I had hired a boat in Vernex from a boatman who allowed me to take his son, a powerful fellow, fourteen years of age, as rower. The Countess came soon after, dressed in a black barége-cloth garment through whose fine meshes her beautiful arms and shoulders were plainly visible; she wore a flower in her hair, and carried her straw hat on her arm. I had never seen her so beautiful, or so pale.
"'You are ill,' I said; 'you are suffering from the sultriness.'