that you have been here, and am to give you her regards. You will remain for the time being in Dresden? That's good. Once a week I should like you to call. I think it has a calming effect on her, but a considerable time will have to pass before I shall dare to allow you to speak to her."
I returned with a good heart, and firmly decided to devote my whole life to Minna, married to her or not, in whatever manner it could best serve her welfare and health. I was satisfied to contribute all that I could to make her as little unhappy as possible, if she could not any longer be happy (though, why should she not still be capable of being so?), without consideration of the harm it might do my career. If it would suit her best to live in her native town, I would try to get a situation in Dresden; if she needed a southern climate, then I would find a means to live in the south. The latter, however, was not very likely; yes, it even was most probable that England, being quite new to her, would be the most suitable place. But all this did not trouble me much. What made me shiver was the consciousness of the sword of Damocles that hung over her head. Had it perhaps at this moment already fallen? And it would remain there constantly, even when the doctor had sanctioned her departure. Yes, even if it was taken away, my fear would still imagine it to be present.… But I promised myself that this terror should only make my love stronger, my tenderness more constant. How could I ever leave her in anger or even in a fit of sulkiness after a matrimonial dispute, when an inner voice whispered to me that perhaps when I returned to seize her hand and read love in her eyes, the hand would be cold and the eyes glassy?
My uncle would have to agree to my absence, at all
