It was her own distempered brain that drove her into these wild aberrations.
Kroll. One thing at any rate I can tell you; and that is, that poor, overstrung, tortured Beata put an end to her life in order that you might live happily—live freely, and—after your own heart.
Rosmer. [Starts half up from his chair.] What do you mean by that?
Kroll. Listen to me quietly, Rosmer; for now I can speak of it. In the last year of her life she came to me twice to pour forth all her anguish and despair.
Rosmer. On this same subject?
Kroll. No. The first time she came, it was to declare that you were on the road to perversion—that you were going to break with the faith of your fathers.
Rosmer. [Eagerly.] What you say is impossible, Kroll! Absolutely impossible! You must be mistaken.
Kroll. And why?
Rosmer. Because while Beata was alive I was still wrestling with myself in doubt. And that fight I
