The deuce take me if I ever thought of bringing my collections to Paris or Vienna for the sake of a Parisian or Viennese.  I am going back to Ploszow; I long to be near my good spirit.

23 May.

When I went away from Ploszow for some time, it was to bring Aniela to some kind of decision.  At Warsaw and on the way back to Ploszow, I tried to guess what she had resolved upon.  I knew she could not write to her husband:  “Come and take me away, for Ploszowski is making love to me;” she would not have done so even if she hated me.  There is too much delicacy of feeling in her to do that.  Putting aside that an encounter between me and Kromitzki might be the consequence of such a step, Aniela would have to leave her sick mother, who cannot go away from Ploszow.

Aniela’s position is indeed a difficult one, and I counted upon that before I made my confession.  The thought crossed my mind that she might take it into her head to avoid me altogether, and shut herself up in her mother’s rooms.  But I dismissed the thought.  In the country and under the same roof it would be quite impracticable, or at any rate so conspicuous as to rouse the elder ladies’ attention and consequently act injuriously upon her mother’s health.  In truth I take the utmost advantage of her position, but who that is in love does not do the same?  I foresaw that Aniela, even if she returns my love, will not allow me in the future to repeat my avowal,—­she will resist more than any other married woman; for what with her principles and her modesty, the slightest sign of yielding would appear to her an incredible crime.  But how can she prevent me from telling her my love?  There is only one way,—­by getting from me a voluntary promise; I guessed she would speak to me about it, and I was right.

When I arrived at Ploszow she seemed pale, and a little worn, but looked at me with a resolute face.  It was evident the dear child had laid by a whole store of arguments to convince me with, and believed that after displaying them there would be nothing for me but to remain silent forever.  Angelic delusion; to think there is only one truth in the world.  No! do not enter into any arguments with me, my Aniela, for if I believe in any truth, it is the truth and right of love; besides, I am too wily, and each argument will be turned inside out like a glove and made into a weapon against yourself.  Neither argument nor reasoning, not even my pity will save you; for the whiter, the more perfect and angelic you prove yourself, the more I shall love you, and the more I love, the more desirable you will be to me.  I have nothing but crocodile tears for you, which will only sharpen my rapacity.  Such is the mazy circle of love.  At the sight of Aniela I felt myself drawn into that circle.  In the afternoon, that same day, when Pani Celina had fallen asleep on the veranda, Aniela motioned me to follow her into the park.  From the earnest expression of her face, I guessed that the time had come for those arguments, and I followed her eagerly.  As we went farther from the veranda, I noticed that Aniela’s animation began to flag; she had grown paler and seemed frightened at her own temerity; but she could not draw back now, and began in an unsteady voice:—­