he might compel her to remain
where she is, and thus destroy the last shred of respect she has for
him. I am almost sure that since the sale of Gluchow, both she and her
mother distrust him, and in the secrecy of their hearts consider him
worse than he really is. In my opinion he is a spiritual upstart, with
a dry and wooden disposition, and incapable of any fine feeling or
subtle thought. There is no generosity in him; his mind is neither
deep, noble, nor sensitive; but in the general acceptance of the word
he is a decent member of society. A certain natural pedantry aids
him in this, which harmonizes with his money-making neurosis,--a
degenerated imaginativeness seeking expression in financial adventure.
Taking him all in all, he is so intensely repulsive to me--with his
eyeglass, oblique eyes, long legs, and sallow, hairless face--that I
doubt if I am capable of judging him objectively. Nevertheless I am
quite sure that unless he loses his own money I shall not lose mine.
But I put it down, in all sincerity, that I would rather he lost the
money, his senses, his life, and went altogether to perdition.

I am ill. I have seen very little of Aniela lately,--partly by reason
of my headaches, that kept me confined to my room, and partly because
I wished to let her feel how deeply she had injured and grieved me.
Not to see her cost me great self-denial, for my eyes want her as
they want the light. I have already mentioned that with all her
inflexibility, she has a certain weakness: she cannot bear that
anybody should be angry with her; it frightens her, and she tries
her best to conciliate those that are angry. She is then meek, sweet
tempered, and looks into one's eyes with the pleading expression of a
child who is afraid to be punished. This always moved me deeply and
was my delight, as it kept up the delusion that I had only to open my
arms and she would fall upon my neck, if only to soften my resentment.
I cannot get rid altogether of this delusion, although convinced of
its futility; and even now I cherish some hope in a corner of my
heart that when we come to make it up, something will happen between
us,--she will make a kind of submission and will draw closer to me. On
the other hand I see in this mutual irritation a tacit acknowledgment
on the part of Aniela that I have the right to love her; for if she
admits the resentment springing from love, she must admit the love
itself. It is a shadowy right, dim and vague