He loves her. He has worked upon her sympathies. In despair--hopeless of any happiness for herself--out of pity--she has consented to marry him. He has importuned her--tired her with his entreaties--until she has consented.....But not for love.... Don't tell me she loves him--that my own beautiful Christine--dark-eyed Christine--loves another man--that man. Oh, the fool, the complacent fool, if he dares to imagine that! That she--my glorious Christine--mine, I say--once mine, always mine--my own--wholly mine--weren't our very souls burned together, into one?--that _she_ loves _him!_ Why, it makes me laugh! The poor, fatuous fool!.... And yet.... she.... she is going to marry him.... to be his wife.... He is going to possess her.... have the right to see her, hear her, touch her, every day.... while I--I--Oh, no! He thinks so, does he? I will show him. I will defeat him yet. It is not yet too late. I will go to her--I--now--at once--I will go to _her_--to Christine--yes--and see her, and speak to her, and touch her--take her in my arms--oh, God!--and tell her how I love her--and how I have suffered--and how I have never ceased to love her--. and pour it all out at her feet--all my love and sorrow and remorse--at her feet--now--to-day--before it is too late--and she--she will forgive me, and forget all the pain I have caused her--all the pain and shame--poor Christine, sweet little Christine, whom I hurt so!--she will forgive me, and--and love me again--she will love me--she _does_ love me--she _must_ love me, I tell you--yes--she will come to me, and love me--and we--she and I--we will go away together--to Europe--to South America--somewhere--anywhere--she and I--Christine and I--together--we will go away together, and--and.... Oh, what am I saying? God forgive me! What a low, miserable wretch I am! As if I had any power, any right! No, no! she will marry him. He will be happy. Perhaps he will make her happy. Why not? He is good and honest and well-to-do. He loves her, and will be kind to her. Why shouldn't he make her happy? Oh, Christine. I hope he will. If you will only be happy, then I shan't mind. God bless her, and make her happy. She will marry him, and she will love him in a certain way, in a quiet, peaceful way, and she will have children, and be contented, and live in comfort and peace--quietly--gently--forgetting me, and the pain I caused her, and--Oh, God! Oh, God! My punishment is greater than I can bear.” He fell in an inert mass upon the floor, and covered his face with his hands, and moaned again incoherently; until again, all at once, he sprang to his feet, and, striding back and forth, as before, again began to talk to himself.