I
Fraulein von Einsiedel took Crammon’s tender trifling quite seriously.
When Crammon observed this, he grew cold, and planned at once to rid
himself of the threatened complication.
She sent him urgent little notes by her maid; he left them unanswered.
She begged him for a meeting; he promised to come but did not. She
reproached him and inquired after the reason. He cast down his eyes and
answered sadly: “I was mistaken in the hour, dear friend. For some time
my mind has been wandering. I sometimes wake in the morning and fancy
that it is still evening. I sit down at table and forget to eat. I need
treatment and shall consult a physician. You must be indulgent, Elise.”
But Elise did not want to understand. According to Crammon’s words of
regretful deprecation, she belonged to the sort of woman who makes a
kiss or a tender meeting an excuse for drawing all sorts of tiresome
and impossible inferences.
He said to himself: “You must be robust of soul, Bernard, and not
permit your innate delicacy to make a weakling of you. Here is a little
trap for mice, and you can smell the cheese from afar. She is pretty
and good, but alas, quite blind and deluded. As though a brief pleasure
were not to be preferred to a long wretchedness!”
To be prepared for any event, he packed his belongings.