e in and began talking
about A. and her conduct before I came. She had gone into the
actors' rooms at all hours, the woman said, and drank and been as
bad as the rest in her conversation. It was the second time a
married woman had run her down to me, and I commenced to think
there might be something in it, and suffered all my mad jealousy
over again. Not knowing the freedom actors and actresses allow
themselves on tour, without there being necessarily anything in
it, I worried till I thought I had nothing to do but die. And
then one of the great struggles of my life occurred. Walking the
country roads, I asked myself: "If it _is_ true, if she has been
unfaithful, will you forgive her and help her to arrive at her
best?" For a long time the answer was "No!" But perhaps my
striving for unity with myself had done some good, and the final
resolution was for forgiveness. I felt more peace of mind then,
and when I told a dying consumptive lodger in the house what the
landlady had said, he replied, "Don't you believe a word of it. I
know she loves you!"....

After an absence I found myself one evening in a town where A.
was performing. I went round to the back and they told me she had
gone to a room in the hotel to change for another part. I
followed and entered the room, with a glass of spirits I found
that an effeminate young actor was bringing to her. She was half
undressed, her beautiful arms and shoulders bare. My arrival was
unexpected and she looked at me surprised, I thought coldly, as I
reproached her for not keeping a promise she had made to me to
touch no alcohol during the tour, but soon her arms were round my
neck. She cried like a child. She was bigger and handsomer and
healthier. There was not only an increased strength and size, but
an increased delicacy and sweetness; her eyes and brows were
lovely; there was an indescribable bloom and fragrance on her,
such as the sun leaves on a peach; the traveling, country air,
and freedom from coitus (had I known it) had enabled her to
arrive at her true self, not only a beautiful woman, but a woman
of fascination, of wit, vivacity and universal _camaraderie_. Her
face was like the dawn; all my fears and jealousy left me like a
cloud that melts before the sun. I remember the look on her face
as she embraced me in bed that nig