e a young creature like myself,
then all persons who had any regard for morality must condemn his
outrageous conduct, and endeavour to save his victim.
During this speech I remained petrified, and my heart beat so violently
that I could not utter a word; but when she stopped and cast a severe
look at me, the convicted sinner, I rallied all my remaining spirit and
answered that I thanked her for her solicitude, and did not at all
doubt her good intentions, but that I did not think I had committed any
impropriety--still less had gone astray--that I did not believe my
reputation to be in any danger. I knew what I could, or could not do,
and would be responsible for it. I did not see why the fact of having
one foot in the grave obliged one to give an account to the world of
every free but innocent action, particularly as even that would not
protect one against its malignant judgments. I had not come to Meran, I
continued, in order to ingratiate myself with a society entirely
strange to me, but to spend my last days in the manner most agreeable
to me, and most in accordance with my nature. You must allow me, my
dear Madam, I concluded, not to be led by considerations which,
perhaps, may be useful to others. When I had delivered this speech I
felt quite startled at my own boldness yet I was pleased with myself.
This I thought will at all events make an end of it; and so it was; at
least, I hope so, for my protectress rose with a dignified look which
sat oddly on, her round face adorned with the little ringlets and said:
"Good-bye, Mademoiselle, you are so independent that it would be
indiscreet in me to prolong my visit," and with these words she sailed
out of the room. So I had at last got rid of her, but not of her
sayings, nor of my thoughts. Oh, the sad cold littleness of the world!
Is there no spot on earth where a poor human being may be permitted to
die after its own fashion? Is one to go tightly laced even to one's
last breath? No, they shall not get the better of me; I do not love
them, then why should I not despise them; or at least not notice them
when they cross my path? Possibly I may have been thoughtless, but
thoughtfulness requires time, and I have not much to spare. Certainly
if I had to live with these people for an immeasurable time, it might
be prudent not to exasperate them, and to bow before them--prudent, but
annoying, and in my opinion, hardly worth the while. What harm could
they do to me; at the wor
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