—And all the time the thing haunts me like a detective story—I can't find the solution! What does it mean? Why did he do it? It is so irrational—so impossible—so utterly incomprehensible! And shall I never know the truth about it?
April 24th.
“We regret that we are not advised to undertake the publication of The Captive. We return the manuscript by express.”
There it is! I read that thing, and I felt my whole being sinking down as if into hell. There it is! And that is the end of it all! Oh, merciful Providence, is it not simply too cruel to be believed! Eleven weeks! Eleven weeks!
—I can do no more—I do not know where to turn. I believe I shall go mad with my misery.
April 25th.