| 125 | 126 | 127 | 128 | 129 |
| 1 | 73 | 145 | 218 | 290 |
|
ended with the carriage drive. Scarcely had I entered the cars, when the
other thing began. Those eight hours on the rail were so terrible to me
that I shall never forget them in my life. Was it because on entering
the car I had a vivid imagination of having already arrived, or because
the railway acts upon people in such an exciting fashion? At any rate,
after boarding the train I could no longer control my imagination, which
incessantly, with extraordinary vivacity, drew pictures before my eyes,
each more cynical than its predecessor, which kindled my jealousy.
And always the same things about what was happening at home during
my absence. I burned with indignation, with rage, and with a peculiar
feeling which steeped me in humiliation, as I contemplated these
pictures. And I could not tear myself out of this condition. I could
not help looking at them, I could not efface them, I could not keep from
evoking them.
"The more I looked at these imaginary pictures, the more I believed
in their reality, forgetting that they had no serious foundation. The
vivacity of these images seemed to prove to me that my imaginations
were a reality. One would have said that a demon, against my will,
was inventing and breathing into me the most terrible fictions.
A conversation which dated a long time back, with the brother of
Troukhatchevsky, I remembered at that moment, in a sort of ecstasy, and
it tore my heart as I connected it with the musician and my wife. Yes,
it was very long ago. The brother of Troukhatchevsky, answering my
questions as to whether he frequented disreputable houses, said that a
respectable man does not go where he may contract a disease, in a low
127
Page
Quick Jump
|