About Albertine, I felt that I should never find out anything, that, out of that tangled mass of details of fact and falsehood, I should never unravel the truth: and that it would always be so, unless I were to shut her up in prison (but prisoners escape) until the end. This evening, this conviction gave me only a vague uneasiness, in which however I could detect a shuddering anticipation of long periods of suffering to come.

“No,” I replied, “I told you a moment ago that I should not be free for the next three weeks⁠—no more tomorrow than any other day.” “Very well, in that case⁠ ⁠… I shall come this very instant⁠ ⁠… it’s a nuisance, because I am at a friend’s house, and she⁠ ⁠…” I saw that she had not believed that I would accept her offer to come, which therefore was not sincere, and I decided to force her hand.