"I cannot get rid of it," she said. "But worst of all, and the thing
that makes me lose faith in myself--" Just then the tower clock began
to strike and Effi counted the strokes. "Ten--Tomorrow at this time I
shall be in Berlin. We shall speak about our wedding anniversary and
he will say pleasing and friendly things to me and perhaps words of
affection. I shall sit there and listen and have a sense of guilt in
my heart." She leaned her head upon her hand and stared silently into
the night.
"And have a sense of guilt in my heart," she repeated. "Yes, the sense
is there. But is it a burden upon my heart? No. That is why I am
alarmed at myself. The burden there is quite a different thing--dread,
mortal dread, and eternal fear that it may some day be found out. And,
besides the dread, shame. I am ashamed of myself. But as I do not feel
true repentance, neither do I true shame. I am ashamed only on account
of my continual lying and deceiving. It was always my pride that I
could not lie and did not need to--lying is so mean, and now I have
had to lie all the time, to him and to everybody, big lies and little
lies. Even Rummschuettel noticed it and shrugged his shoulders, and
who knows what he thinks of me? Certainly not the best things. Yes,
dread tortures me, and shame on account of my life of lies. But not
shame on account of my guilt--that I do not feel, or at least not
truly, or not enough, and the knowledge that I do not is killing me.
If all women are like this it is terrible, if they are not--which I
hope--then _I_ am in a bad predicament; there is something out of
order in my heart, I lack proper feeling.
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