After that I heard nothing from her for a
long time. Then came a letter informing me that she was going to marry
a wine-merchant, who cherished no resentment for her past, as her
father had made a sacrifice!"
"Shame!"
"You just said yourself that I ought to have bound her permanently to
my life."
"Yes, from love, not for a dowry. Besides, you had less to forgive
than the wine-merchant."
"What of it--that's the morality of people who are called practical."
"And then?"
"Then the marriage probably took place. I have heard nothing more from
Helene."
"Did you not try to learn something about her?"
"To be honest--no. I do not think I have a right to cross her path.
And what would have been the object of another advance, since she was
married? True--I often feel--but we combat such emotions."
"She has never made the attempt to see you again? Perhaps she thinks
that you are still in Spain."
"Or she is dead. For when people have loved each other so ardently in
the glorious days of youth, it is impossible to live and become
strangers. At least it seems so to me.
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