“Never, never will I forgive myself! She dared! You⁠ ⁠… but you don’t think, do you, that you, that she.⁠ ⁠… This is all because she wants to register on me but I.⁠ ⁠…”

“Fortunately she will not have time for that now. Besides, even a thousand like her.⁠ ⁠… I don’t care.⁠ ⁠… I know you will not believe that thousand but only me. For after all that happened yesterday, I am all yours, all, to the very end, as you wanted it. I am in your hands; you can now at any moment.⁠ ⁠…”

“What, ‘at any moment?’ ” (But at once I understood what. My blood rushed to my ears and cheeks.) “Don’t speak about that, you must never speak about that! The other I, my former self⁠ ⁠… but now.⁠ ⁠…”

“How do I know? Man is like a novel: up to the last page one does not know what the end will be. It would not be worth reading otherwise.”