"'At that time I did tell you everything,' she replied. 'You only would not believe me; you wanted to make me happy by force, and later why should I say anything? On paper everything sounds so different from what one means; you might even have thought you discovered a reproach against him or even against yourself, and naturally I could not risk such a misunderstanding growing up. My misery already began on the first day when we arrived here. I saw how he and his mother fell out, and a voice within me cried: "You are the cause of it." I saw how he grew sadder and gloomier from day to day, and again and again I said in my heart: "You are the cause of it." At nights I lay awake at his side, and tortured myself with the thought: why are you so dull and so depressing, and why can you do nothing but cling to him weeping, and suffer doubly when you see him suffering? Why have you not learnt to greet him with a song as soon as he comes in, and with a laugh to kiss away the wrinkles from his brow? And more than this. Why are you not proud, and strong, and wise, and why can you not say to him: Take refuge with me, when you are fainthearted--from me you shall derive new strength, and I will take care that you do not stumble. This is how you would have done, sister--no--do not contradict me; often enough I have imagined how you would have stood there with your tall figure, and would have opened out your arms to him so that he might seek shelter within them, like in a harbour where storms do not dare to enter.... But look at _me_'--and she cast a pitiable glance at her poor, delicate frame, the haggard outlines of which were traceable beneath the coverlet--'would it not sound ridiculous if I were to say anything of the sort? I, who am almost submerged in his arms, so small and weak am I,--I am only here to seek shelter; to give shelter is not in my power.... Do you see; all this I have thought out in the long, dark nights, and have grown more and more despondent. And in the mornings I forced myself to laugh, and tried to pass for a sort of cheerful, happy little bird, for this _rôle_, I thought to myself, is the most suitable one for you, and is most likely to please him; but song and laughter stuck in my throat, and I daresay he could see it too, for he smiled pitifully to it all, so that I felt doubly ashamed.' "She stopped exhausted, and hid her face in my dress, then she continued: