And with that she left the room. I know that to a woman who fights with herself, a bitter and forbidden love often seems akin to hatred; and yet Aniela's words staggered me and extinguished the newborn hope, as one blows out a candle. There are many quite natural things in this world which we are strong enough to bear but for our nerves. I am struck by a truth not recognized by me formerly, not recognized generally,--that love for another man's wife, if only a pastime is the greatest vileness, and if real, the greatest misfortune that can happen to any man; the more worthy the woman the greater the misfortune. I have a burning curiosity within me, very bitter at the same time, as to what Aniela would do if I said to her: "Either put your arms round my neck and own that you love me, or I will blow out my brains here before your eyes!" I know it would be the meanest thing in the world, and I should never force her hand in that way; no! whatever I may be, I am not bad enough for that! But I cannot help thinking, "What would she do?" I am almost certain she would not survive the shock and the scorn of herself, but she would not yield. When I think of this I curse her and worship her at the same time; I hate her and love her more than ever. The worst is I do not see how I shall ever get out of this enchanted circle. Added to the passion of the senses this woman wakes in me, I have for her a dog-like affection. I envelop her with my eyes and thoughts, can never satiate myself with the sight of her, and at the same time she is the most desirable of women, and the very crown of my head. No other woman ever attached me to her so absolutely and in that twofold manner. At times this influence of hers over me seems well-nigh incredible; then again I explain it, and as usual take the worst view of it. I have lived too quickly, passed already the zenith, and am going down hill, where it is dark and cold. I feel that in her I could recover my lost youth, vitality, and the desire for life. If she be lost to me, then truly nothing remains but to vegetate, and gloominess unutterable as the foretaste of decay. Therefore I love Aniela with the instinct of self-preservation,--not with my senses only, not with my soul, but also from the fear of annihilation. Aniela does not know all this; but I suppose she pities me, just as I torture her, who would give my life to make her happy. And therefore I say again that the love for another man's wife is the greatest misfortune, since it leads the man to make her unhappy whose happiness he would ensure at the cost of his own. The result of this is that we are both unhappy. But you, Aniela, have at least your dogma to support you, whereas I am verily like a boat drifting without helm and oar.