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because their inherent weakness renders them incapable of truth。
Oh！ I know the catalogue of their good qualities。 They are often
pitiful； self…devoting； generous； but they are so by fits and
starts； just as they are cruel； remorseless； exacting； by fits and
starts。 They have no constancythey are too weak to be constant
even in evil； their minds are all impressions； their actions are
all the issue of immediate promptings。 Swayed by the fleeting
impulses of the hour； they have only one persistent； calculable
motive on which reliance can always be placedthat motive is
vanity； you are always sure of them there。 It is from vanity they
are goodfrom vanity they are evil； their devotion and their
desertion equally vanity。 I know them。 To me they have disclosed
the shallows of their natures。 God！ how I have suffered from
them！〃
A deep； low exclamation； half sob； half curse； closed his tirade。
He remained silent for a few minutes； looking on the floor； then；
suddenly turning his eyes upon me； said：
〃Were you ever in Heidelberg？〃
〃Never。〃
〃I thought all your countrymen went there？ Then you will never
have heard anything of my story。 Shall I tell you how my youth was
blighted？ Will you care to listen？〃
〃It would interest me much。〃
〃I had reached the age of seven…and…twenty；〃 he began； 〃without
having once known even the vague stirrings of the passion of love。
I admired many women； and courted the admiration of them all； but I
was as yet not only heart…whole； but； to use your Shakespeare's
phrase； Cupid had not tapped me on the shoulder。
〃This detail is not unimportant in my story。 You may possibly have
observed that in those passionate natures which reserve their
force； and do not fritter away their feelings in scattered
flirtations or trivial love…affairs； there is a velocity and
momentum； when the movement of passion is once excited； greatly
transcending all that is ever felt by expansive and expressive
natures。 Slow to be moved； when they do move it is with the whole
mass of the heart。 So it was with me。 I purchased my immunity
from earlier entanglements by the price of my whole life。 I am not
what I was。 Between my past and present self there is a gulf； that
gulf is dark； stormy； and profound。 On the far side stands a youth
of hope； energy； ambition； and unclouded happiness； with great
capacities for loving； on this side a blighted manhood； with no
prospects but suffering and storm。〃
He paused。 With an effort he seemed to master the suggestions
which crowded upon his memory； and continued his narrative in an
equable tone。
〃I had been for several weeks at Heidelberg。 One of my intimate
companions was Kestner； the architect； and he one day proposed to
introduce me to his sister…in…law； Ottilie； of whom he had
repeatedly spoken to me in terms of great affection and esteem。
〃We went； and we were most cordially received。 Ottilie justified
Kestner's praises。 Pretty； but not strikingly soclever； but not
obtrusively so； her soft dark eyes were frank and winning； her
manner was gentle and retiring； with that dash of sentimentalism
which seems native to all German girls； but without any of the
ridiculous extravagance too often seen in them。 I liked her all
the more because I was perfectly at my ease with her； and this was
rarely the case in my relations to young women。 I don't enjoy
their society。
〃You leap at once to the conclusion that we fell in love。 Your
conclusion is precipitate。 Seeing her continually； I grew to
admire and respect her； but the significant smiles； winks； and
hints of friends； pointing unmistakably at a supposed understanding
existing between us； only made me more seriously examine the state
of my feelings； and assured me that I was not in love。 It is true
that I felt a serene pleasure in her society； and that when away
from her she occupied much of my thoughts。 It is true that I often
thought of her as a wife； and in these meditations she appeared as
one eminently calculated to make a happy home。 But it is no less
true that during a temporary absence of hers of a few weeks I felt
no sort of uneasiness； no yearning for her presence； no vacancy in
my life。 I knew； therefore； that it was not love which I felt。
〃So much for my feelings。 What of hers？ They seemed very like my
own。 That she admired me； and was pleased to be with me； was
certain。 That she had a particle of fiery love for me I did not；
could not believe。 And it was probably this very sense of her
calmness which kept my feelings quiet。 For love is a flame which
often can be kindled only by contact with flame。 Certainly this is
so in proud； reserved natures； which are chilled by any contact
with temperature not higher than their own。
〃On her return； however； from that absence I have mentioned； I was
not a little fluttered by an obvious change in her manner； an
impression which subsequent meetings only served to confirm。
Although still very quiet； her manner had become more tender； and
it had that delicious shyness which is the most exquisite of
flatteries； as it is one of the most enchanting of graces。 I saw
her tremble slightly beneath my voice； and blush beneath my gaze。
〃There was no mistaking these signs。 It was clear that she loved
me； and it was no less clear that I； taking fire at this discovery；
was myself rapidly falling in love。 I will not keep you from my
story by idle reflections。 Take another cigar。〃 He rose and paced
up and down the room in silence。
VII
AGALMA
〃At this juncture there arrived from Paris the woman to whom the
great sorrow of my life is due。 A fatalist might read in her
appearance at this particular moment the signs of a prearranged
doom。 A few weeks later； and her arrival would have been harmless；
I should have been shielded from all external influence by the
absorbing force of love。 But； alas！ this was not to be。 My fate
had taken another direction。 The woman had arrived whose shadow
was to darken the rest of my existence。 That woman was Agalma
Liebenstein。
〃How is it that the head which we can only see surrounded with a
halo； or a shadow； when the splendors of achievement or the infamy
of shame instruct our eyes； is by the uninstructed eye observed as
wholly vulgar？ We all profess to be physiognomists； how is it we
are so lamentably mistaken in our judgments？ Here was a woman in
whom my ignorant eyes saw nothing at all remarkable except golden
hair of unusual beauty。 When I say golden； I am not speaking
loosely。 I do not mean red or flaxen hair； but hair actually
resembling burnished gold more than anything else。 Its ripples on
her brow caught the light like a coronet。 This was her one beauty；
and it was superb。 For the rest； her features were characterless。
Her figure was tall and full； not graceful； but sweepingly
imposing。 At first I noticed nothing about her exc