I made my way out of the town and struck out straight into the open
country. I was devoured by anger, frenzied anger. I hurled reproaches
at myself. How was it I had not seen the reason that had forced Acia
to change the place of our meeting; how was it I did not appreciate
what it must have cost her to go to that old woman; how was it I had
not kept her? Alone with her, in that dim, half-dark room I had had
the force, I had had the heart to repulse her, even to reproach her.…
Now her image simply pursued me. I begged her forgiveness. The thought
of that pale face, those wet and timid eyes, of her loose hair falling
on the drooping neck, the light touch of her head against my breast
maddened me. ‘Yours’--I heard her whisper. ‘I acted from conscientious
motives,’ I assured myself.… Not true! Did I really desire such a
termination? Was I capable of parting from her? Could I really do
without her?
‘Madman! madman!’ I repeated with exasperation.…
Meanwhile night was coming on. I walked with long strides towards the
house where Acia lived.