ietly: It was but thy own
inference, and utterly unwarranted. And I said: Why didst thou then
allow me to make love to thee at all? And she said, very gently: I did
not ask, nor even wish thee, to make love to me at all. But I was
touched by thy emotion, and thy passion, and thy miserable longing,
and willing to soothe it, and gratify it, for an instant, letting thee
taste that nectar for which thou wert so obviously dying: for I am
kind.

And I exclaimed with a shout: Kind! Why, what is thy kindness but the
very extremity of unkindness? What! and did all thy caresses mean
absolutely nothing? And she said, very gently: They meant exactly what
they were, gifts and boons, bestowed of sheer compassion: and if from
their receipt, thou hast drawn the conclusion that thy affection was
returned, it is not so: it is only thy own unjustified construction,
for thou art not, and never can be, anything to me, but the thing that
thou wilt not be, a mere friend. And I said: What kind of a woman art
thou to betray me with kisses? And she said: I am only what I am: but
thou art most unfair to me, and instead of peevishly demanding of me
what I cannot give, and growing so unreasonably angry, thou oughtest
rather to be very grateful to me, for giving thee anything at all. I
told thee almost as soon as I had seen thee, in the very beginning of
all, that I belonged, body and soul, to Narasinha: and yet
notwithstanding, I took pity on thee, for thy misery, and gave thee,
by concession, what I might very easily have refused, humouring thy
weakness like that of a child, crying for what he cannot have. But
never did I promise thee anything beyond: and I even told thee, if
thou canst remember it, that it might injure thee and could not do
thee any good. But thou wert blind, and as it were buried in thy
dream. Did I not warn thee, and entreat thee beforehand, not to blame
me, when the dream was over, and reality returned? And when I had
surfeited thy longing, and dismissed thee, I meant it to be the end,
for it was all I had to give. In all, it is not I, that have in any
way whatever deceived thee: thou hast all along only deceived thyself.
And if I have deceived at all, it is myself alone I have deceived, by
expecting any gratitude for the boon of my compassion, and the favour
that I poured on thee with no miser's band, because I blamed myself
for being innocently guilty of becoming the unintentional object of
thy passion, and its involuntary