I haven't the strength to leave
Nicholas. I am soft, sentimental, about his unhappiness. Pah! how I
despise myself.... I am capable of living on here for years with husband
and lover, going from one to another, weeping for both of them. Already
I am pleading with Sherry that he should remain here. We will see what
will happen. We will see what will happen! Ah, my contempt for myself!
Without bones, without energy, without character.
"But this is life, Ivan Andreievitch! I stay here, I send him away
because I cannot bear to see Nicholas suffer. And I do not care for
Nicholas. Do you understand that? I never loved him, and now I have a
contempt for him--in spite of myself. Uncle Alexei has done that. Oh
yes! He has made a fool of Nicholas for months, and although I have
hated him for doing that, I have seen, also, what a fool Nicholas is!
But he is a hero, too. Make _him_ as noble as you like, Ivan
Andreievitch. You cannot colour it too high. He is the real thing and I
am the sham.... But oh! I do not want to live with him any more, I am
tired of him, his experiments, his lamentations, his weakness, his lack
of humour--tired of him, sick of him.
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