This morning I sent the letter to Clara. To-morrow I shall have a
reply, or perhaps Clara herself will come tonight. In the afternoon
they sent me a second despatch from Kromitzki. It expresses as much
despair as a few words can contain. Things seem to have turned out
very badly, indeed; even I did not think ruin would come so quickly.
Some unexpected circumstances must have intervened that even Kromitzki
could not have foreseen. The loss I incur does not make a great
difference to me; I shall always be what I was,--but Kromitzki? Why
should I deceive myself? There lurks somewhere in a corner of my heart
a certain satisfaction at his ruin,--if only for the reason that these
two will be now entirely dependent on us; that is, upon my aunt, who
is the administrator of the Ploszow estate, and myself. In the mean
while I do not intend to reply at all. If I changed my intention
it would be to send him my congratulation at the expected family
increase. Later on it will be different. I will secure their future;
they shall have enough to live upon and more.