trying, by means of that far-fetched theory of his, to justify the fact that the woman simply bored him?
He has now made up his mind to seek for his future Dulcineas amongst kitchen-maids.
"Dressmakers have decidedly too much culture for my taste," he said.
"I sincerely hope you may be successful," was my parting wish.
Witold, contrary to my expectations, has not yet called again. There is something going on that is beyond me, incomprehensible.
I am assailed by innumerable thoughts which make me turn pale with fear.
He, too, is possibly "seeking oblivion," as I was; but he is scarce likely to stop in time, like me. Moreover, his vengeance wull not, like mine, be a more horrible pain than the injury itself.
He has a supremely great advantage over me, and the conditions of the struggle are the most unequal possible.
Will he delay coming for long? Is it conceivable that he has given me up for ever?
I was in tears all this evening.
Idalia felt it her duty to try and comfort
