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Updated: May 20, 2025
Joergen Malthe has planned and built a little villa for me without having the least idea I was to be the occupant. The house is on an island, the name of which I will keep to myself for the present. The rooms are fourteen feet high, and the dining-room can hold thirty-six guests. There are only two reception-rooms. But what more could a divorced woman of my age require?
One more thing, in profound confidence, and on the understanding that you will not say a word about it to my husband: Joergen Malthe, dear fellow, formerly honoured me with his youthful affections as you all knew, to your great amusement. Probably, like a true man, he will be quite frantic when he hears of my strange retirement.
I am now sure that, even if the difference in our ages did not exist, I could never marry Malthe. I could do foolish, even mean things for the sake of the one man I have loved with all my heart. I could humble myself to be his mistress; I could die with him. But set up a home with Joergen Malthe never!
I had to take a dose of veronal, but I managed to sleep round the clock, from 9. P.M. to 9. A.M. The gardener has gone off in the boat; and I have two hours in which to dress. What is the matter with me? Now that my happiness is so close at hand, I feel strangely depressed. Jeanne advises a little rouge. No! Joergen loves me just as I am....
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