all. He again and again said he loved me a hundred times more than ever before; I was the only woman, so pure, so ideal … and I could not make out what he meant. But my hands, when touched by his lips, grew cold as ice.
"He was frightened, and tried to soothe me; said he would never do it any more; it was not properly his fault, he had been overtaken with wine: and besides, she—she was indeed most beautiful.
"At the bare memory, I saw his eyes flash bright. Oh, he is a connoisseur in women!
"And then, at last, I understood it all; and I thought (believe me, with the utmost sincerity): 'Why, rather than this, has he not been drowned in the depths of the sea?'
"A mist came before my eyes: I rubbed them to see clear. Then a sudden pain clutched at my heart and made me writhe with torture. I fainted; when I came to, I was seized with fits of hysteria. In short, I made all the scenes that the typical 'injured wife' is wont to make.
"Then, at the time when George came, I was dangerously ill. Witold did not admit that he had done me wrong, nor did he come
