shouted at him and am not on speaking terms with him. Dear, advise me: I’ve just got rid of my maid as they’ve told me that she has an affair with a groom and visits him. I can’t stand that. I could have hit her in the face when she confessed it. She was beautiful and cried, and I enjoyed watching her tears. Imagine, I’d never noticed before the way in which tears come. They well up, run down the cheek quickly, stop and then catch up the others. I cannot cry. When I was small I screamed until I was blue in the face, but I never cried. I drove the girl away an hour ago. I hated her and could not bear her to stand near me. You’re right, I’m wicked and full of anger, but how could she dare to do that? Darling, I beg you to speak with her. I’ll have her back and behave to her as you’d like me to. I only want to see that you are able to forgive a woman for such things. You know that I’m wicked and filled with envy. I’m so angry that I don’t know what to do. I should like to see you but I cannot now. Don’t write to me. My love to you.”
Prokop read this to the accompaniment of a wild tune on the piano in the wing of the castle. He wrote: “I see that you do not love me. You are inventing all sorts of obstacles and you do not wish to compromise yourself. You are tired of torturing a man who did not force himself upon you. I thought the position was different and now I am ashamed and realize that you wish to end things. If you don’t appear in the Japanese summer-house this afternoon, I shall assume that this is the case and do all I can not to bother you any more.”
Prokop sighed with relief. He was not used to
