“Why?” she continued, “I like you, with all my heart.”
She gave me her hand, and looked at me in the friendliest fashion.
“And will you be my wife?”
Wanda looked at me—how did she look at me? I think first of all with
surprise, and then with a tinge of irony.
“What has given you so much courage, all at once?”
“Courage?”
“Yes courage, to ask anyone to be your wife, and me in particular?” She
lifted up the slipper. “Was it through a sudden friendship with this?
But joking aside. Do you really wish to marry me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Severin, that is a serious matter. I believe, you love me, and I
care for you too, and what is more important each of us finds the other
interesting. There is no danger that we would soon get bored, but, you
know, I am a fickle person, and just for that reason I take marriage
seriously. If I assume obligations, I want to be able to meet them. But
I am afraid—no—it would hurt you.”
“Please be perfectly frank with me,” I replied.
“Well then honestly, I don’t believe I could love a man longer than—”
She inclined her head gracefully to one side and mused.
“A year.”
“What do you imagine—a month perhaps.”
“Not even me?”
“Oh you—perhaps two.”
“Two months!” I exclaimed.
“Two months is very long.”
“You go beyond antiquity, madame.”
“You see, you cannot stand the truth.”
Wanda walked across the room and leaned back against the fireplace,
watching me and resting one of her arms on the mantelpiece.
“What shall I do with you?” she began anew.
“Whatever you wish,” I replied with resignation, “whatever will give
you pleasure.”
“How illogical!” she cried, “first you want to make me your wife, and
then you offer yourself to me as something to toy with.”
“Wanda—I love you.”
“Now we are back to the place where we started. You love me, and want
to make me your wife, but I don’t want to enter into a new marriage,
because I doubt the permanence of both my and your feelings.”
“But if I am willing to take the risk with you?” I replied.
“But it also depends on whether I am willing to risk it with you,” she
said quietly. “I can easily imagine belonging to one man for my entire
life, but he would have to be a whole man, a man who would dominate me,
who would subjugate me by his inate strength, do you understand? And
every man—I know this very well—as soon as he falls in love becomes
weak, pliable, ridiculous. He puts himself into the woman’s hands,
kneels down before her. The only man whom I could love permanently
would be he before whom I should have to kneel. I’ve gotten to like you
so much, however, that I’ll try it with you.”