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Nordau, Max Simon, 1849-1923

"The Malady of the Century"

But it
would surprise me very much. The worst is over. In such cases, if
women mean to commit some act of madness, they do it in the first
moment. The countess has her mother with her, she has three
children, she has, from all I hear, an extremely buoyant nature, her
despair will soon calm down. If not, it is always open to you to
return in a year's time and do the prodigal son, and have the fatted
calf killed for you."
As Wilhelm looked at him with suppressed reproach, Schrotter laid
his hand on the young man's shoulder.
"You no doubt think me a hard-hearted old fogey--you miss the ring
of romance in what I say. That is quite natural. The language of
reason always sounds flat to the ear of passion--and not to passion
only, but to sentimentality and feebleness. Let us finish. You know
my advice. Give no sign of life, and so give time a chance to do its
work. Try to forgot the past, and help the lady to do likewise, and
do not remind her of it again by letters, or any other kind of
communication. And now let us talk of something else. What are your
plans?"
"I have none," answered Wilhelm, with a dispirited gesture. "I have
not forgotten what you wrote to me at New Year. If our wishes make
up our future, I have no future before me, for I have no wish.


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