They cannot let me alone,--found me even here. Again for two days I
had no peace; again I press both hands against my head to stop that
whirring sound in my brain. I think again of Ploszow and of her,
and of the solitude that is awaiting me. It is a fearful thing
when suddenly something goes out of our life for which we lived
exclusively. I do not know whether illness has weakened my brain, but
I simply cannot understand various phenomena that I perceive within
myself. It seems as if jealousy had outlived my love.
It is a twofold jealousy,--a jealousy not only of facts, but of
feelings. I am torn by the thought that the child which is to be born
will take Aniela's heart from me, and what is more, and concerns me
most, it will bring her closer to Kromitzki. I would not have her now
if she were free; but I cannot bear the thought of her loving her
husband. I would give all that remains of life if nobody would love
her, and she not love anybody any more. Under such conditions life
might be endurable still.