“I haven’t fascinated her; perhaps I was fascinated myself in my folly. But she won’t care a straw whether it’s you or I, so long as somebody sits beside her, sighing.⁠ ⁠… I can’t explain the position, brother⁠ ⁠… look here, you are good at mathematics, and working at it now⁠ ⁠… begin teaching her the integral calculus; upon my soul, I’m not joking, I’m in earnest, it’ll be just the same to her. She will gaze at you and sigh for a whole year together. I talked to her once for two days at a time about the Prussian House of Lords (for one must talk of something)⁠—she just sighed and perspired! And you mustn’t talk of love⁠—she’s bashful to hysterics⁠—but just let her see you can’t tear yourself away⁠—that’s enough. It’s fearfully comfortable; you’re quite at home, you can read, sit, lie about, write. You may even venture on a kiss, if you’re careful.”

“But what do I want with her?”