The odd thing is, that while I was bearing my
burden my strength did not fail me, my courage did not utterly give way.
Only when the burden was removed did I faint because of it. My trouble
was partially physical--I had to endure grave physical cruelty at that
time--but chiefly mental. My agony of mind ran a race with my agony of
body, and won easily. It's generally so with women, I believe?"
She waited as if for a reply.
"Yes, it is often so," Doctor Levillier answered.
"Ever since the burden was lifted from my shoulders," she continued, "I
have been getting steadily worse. Each month, each year, I became more
and more degraded in my cowardice, my fear of trifles, even of things
which have no existence at all. All this is perhaps--perhaps--peculiarly
painful to me because I am naturally, you must understand, what sane
people call a strong-minded woman. I had originally complete physical
courage, didn't know the meaning of the word 'fear,' despised those who
did, I am afraid. So you see this is very bad for me; it cuts so deep
into my mind, you see. It makes me hate and loathe myself so. I sleep
badly, and have the usual symptoms of nervous collapse, I believe. I'm
strong one moment, feeble, no good at all, the next.
Pages:
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559