She entreated the physician to have the irons
taken off; she could not bear them, she would be perfectly quiet; and
when he promised this she also besought him to write to her father,
whose address she gave, in her place. She begged the latter's
forgiveness for what she had done; she could not help it, there must be
justice for gentlemen as well as for peasants. If there was no justice
the world could not exist, everything would be topsy-turvy, and people
would kill one another in the public streets just as the wild beasts
did in the woods. She, too, would atone for the sin she had committed
that day, and that would be perfectly just. She also sent a message to
the gardener, thanking him for all the kindness and love which he had
shown her, and hoping that he might have a happier life than Fate had
allotted to her.
The physician talked with her some time longer, and received quiet,
rational, somewhat timid replies. At last he went away shaking his
head, evidently not knowing what to think of this singular woman, but
he succeeded in having the handcuffs removed, and faithfully wrote the
letter, as he had promised to do.
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