in the same way, gracefully and sweetly, if she
thought it would add to her beauty." One feels these things, and one
may lose one's head over a woman like that, but it is impossible to
like her. And she who understands so many things does not understand
this.

Yet how beautiful she is! A few days ago, when she came down the steps
leading into the garden, swaying lightly on those magnificent hips,
"I thought I should drop," as the poet Slowacki says. Decidedly I
am under the sway of two powers,--the one attracting, the other
repelling. I want to go to Switzerland, and I want to go back to Rome.
I do not know how it will end. Ribot rightly says that a desire to do
a thing is only a consciousness, not an act of volition; still less is
it an act of volition to have a twofold desire. I received a letter
from my lawyer, who wants to see me about the affairs of the
succession; these are mere formalities, and they could arrange things
without me, did I feel disinclined to move. But it will serve as a
pretext. For some time I have liked Laura even less than formerly. It
is for no fault of hers, as she is always the same, but as it happens,
I have transferred to her some of the dislike I have for myself. At
the time of my inward struggles I turned to her not only for peace,
but also for a kind of wilful degradation; now for that very reason I
feel displeased with her. She did not even know of the storm raging
in my breast; besides, what could it matter to her, as it was nothing
which could serve her as an ornament? She only noticed that I was
feverish and more impulsive than usual; she asked a little after
the cause, but without insisting too much. Perhaps after all the
attraction here will win and I shall not depart; in any case, I am
going to tell her that I am obliged to go. I am curious to know how
she will take it, still more curious as I can imagine it very well. I
suspect that with all her love for me, which is very like my love for
her, she does not really like me,--that is, if she ever takes the
trouble to like or to dislike anybody. Our minds have certain points
of resemblance, but thousands of contradictions.

I am terribly tired. I cannot help thinking of the sensation my letter
has made at Ploszow. I think incessantly of this even when with Laura;
I see before me continually Aniela and my aunt. How happy Laura is in
her everlasting repose! I have such difficulty to bear with my own
self.

I shall be glad of a cha